Can I Love Again?
by EgyptGoddess
Summary: [REWRITTEN!] A rewrite of the original story with a new character...Lady Victoria De Chagny.  Sister to Raoul, Vicomte De Chagny.  Catching the eye of our beloved Phantom.  Rewritten!  EOW.  Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Howdy Everyone! Well it's been two years since I first posted this story of FFN and I've been meaning to go back and edit it and do some rewrites. I Finally got around to it! Yay! The plot has changed a bit, but nothing too drastic. I managed to quell my drama queen tendancies for the most part. I hope you enjoy this version as much as the first! As my first story it holds a special place in my heart and I knew that I didn't do it justice the first time around. I want to thank my Beta who has been so gracious and helped me so much, you're awesome!! Anyway, please let me know what you think! I always enjoye getting reviews! **

**Disclaimer: I'm only going to put one disclaimer up for the ENTIRE story. I own NOTHING of POTO! Victoria however is all mine. The characterizations and plotline in this story is mine. But I Don't own any of the original characters...sadly.**

Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny, escorted his younger sister, Victoria, up the stairs of the Opera Populaire. They and there family were the newest patrons to the Opera and were stopping by to check on the progress of the company before the gala that evening. While Raoul led the way, Victoria was smilingly taking in the sights as she and her brother strolled the narrow corridors. They approached the managers' office just as Messieurs Firmin and Andre were leaving.

"Ah Bonjour Vicomte!" Monsieur Andre boomed.

Raoul gave a little bow. "Monsieur Andre, Monsieur Firmin, I would like to present to you my sister, Victoria."

She smiled sweetly and curtsied. "It is a pleasure," she said quietly.

Monsieur Firmin took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it. "Lady De Chagny," he purred. She withdrew her hand and hooked her arm with Raoul's once more. He'd warned earlier her about the rather unsavory natures of the money-obsessed managers.

The men began talking about 'business' matters, and Victoria soon grew bored. She looked down the passageway before pulling away from her brother. "Excusez moi, Messieurs…but I wonder, might I be permitted to walk around?"

Monsieur Andre bowed. "But of course, Mademoiselle. Would you like an escort?"

She shook her head. "No, that is not necessary, but thank you." She curtsied, turned from them and walked in the other direction, thankful to be on her own to explore. She let herself wander around, looking with curious eyes at the sights. She entered the auditorium, where the rehearsal was proceeding. She winced when she heard La Carlotta hit a particularly sour note. A lover of the arts, Victoria found it tragic that the managers of the Opera allowed Carlotta to desecrate the music she attempted to sing.

She moved to the backstage area, trying to keep out from underfoot. There, she was spotted by Madame Giry, the ballet mistress. The younger woman was taken by surprise when the older, work hardened woman, dressed in a loose fitting dress of black with her hair pulled away from her face in a tight bun, began to speak to her. Her voice was shockingly gentle in contrast to her severe appearance.

"Excusez moi…may I help you, my dear?" she asked kindly.

"No Madame, I'm just looking about. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" she inquired.

Madame Giry shook her head "Not at all, I am Madame Giry, the ballet mistress."

"It's a pleasure Madame. I am Victoria de Chagny."

The ballet mistress raised an eyebrow but said nothing. They stood in silence for a moment. "Would You care to see the stage?"

Victoria smiled. "Yes, please!" she answered excitedly.

Madame Giry showed her around the backstage area for a few minutes. Victoria watched the ballet corps with a touch of jealousy. When the ballet mistress began shouting at the dancers Victoria took the opportunity to continue her exploration of the backstage area.

She was browsing backstage in an unpopulated area, unaware of two sets of eyes watching her. She turned to return to the auditorium but jumped when a man appeared in front of her. She brought her hand to her throat in shock. Joseph Buquet stood in front of her

"Monsieur you scared me," she breathed with a slight tremor in her voice.

He smiled evilly. "Hello there, lass.. you lost?"

She shook her head "No, I was just looking around."

"Then allow me to accompany you...we wouldn't want the Opera Ghost to spirit you away!" His chuckle was a sound that unnerved Victoria.

"Thank you, but I believe I can find my own way," she said tersely.

She tried to bypass him but he stepped back in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Please remove yourself, sir," she said firmly.

He didn't move, but took a step towards her. She pushed passed him, yelping when she felt his hand on her arm. She felt the breath leave her lungs as she was thrown into the wall, pain shooting up her back as she was pressed roughly against the wall.

"Remove your hand!" she hissed, though he didn't seem to hear her. He pressed his body against hers; reacting purely by instinct, she raised her knee, hitting him squarely between the legs. He dropped to the floor, cupping himself.

"God damn you, you bitch!" he seethed.

With fear and adrenaline coursing through her body, she stepped over him and hurried away down the corridor. She panicked when she heard uneven footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace, her attention directed toward the man who was stumbling along behind her, so was quite surprised when strong hands seemed to come out of nowhere and pulled her into the darkness.

A leather-clad hand covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Victoria tried frantically to look around, but was unable to see anything in the inky darkness that surrounded her.

"Be silent," a voice breathed into her ear.

She shivered, unsure if it was from silkiness of the voice or from fear. She subdued the whimpering sounds she had not been aware she was making until that moment, and heard someone stumbling down the corridor and past her hiding spot. Joseph Buquet was still searching for her, but she imagined he wouldn't think to look in the shadows. Her breathing had steadied, and she calmed even more when the hand was removed from her mouth.. She realized then that she felt a lean, masculine body behind her. She stiffened in shock.

"Thank you, Monsieur." There was only silence. She shifted uncomfortably. "Who are you?" she queried. Again there was no response.

Finally he spoke. "You should be more careful…there are unsavory things to be found roaming about my opera house."

She raised an eyebrow. "YOUR opera house?"

She heard a deep chuckle in the dark. "Yes, MY opera house. You and your brother will do well to remember that, Lady De Chagny"

She started "How did you know who we are?"

"I know everything that goes on within these walls." She felt very uncomfortable talking to a voice without a body. "It would be easier for me to speak to you if I could see you."

"I am afraid that is impossible…you shall never see me, but do not doubt that I am always here, watching."

She shivered as his breath caressed her ear. "What is it you want?"

"Merely to welcome you to my opera. And now, with that having been said, I bid you adieu." And he was gone.

She stepped out of the shadows, looking around warily for the creepy stagehand who had accosted her. She sighed in relief when she saw that he wasn't anywhere to be found. She made her way back to the auditorium seeking her brother. He gave her an odd look that asked, 'where have you been?' She attempted a weak smile, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her brother's curiosity.

"Victoria, I was afraid you had gotten lost!" he proclaimed to her once she was by his side.

She smiled, embarrassed. "I was looking around the opera house, and got turned around somewhere." She shifted uncomfortably; she was not a very good liar.

"Fortunately you found your own way back to here. Messieurs Andre and Firmin are about to introduce us to the company." She smiled and linked her arm with his as he led her to the stage area.

Victoria merely smiled demurely as Messieurs Andre and Firmin introduced Raoul as the new patron. She wasn't paying much attention to what was being said. She was looking around at the members of the company, and someone caught her eye. She would recognize that curly head of hair and laugh anywhere…

She excused herself, and walked over to a young ballet dancer. When she tapped her on the shoulder, the young girl whirled around.

"Excusez moi, Mademoiselle …Victoria?"

Victoria smiled. "Christine, how are you?"

The younger woman laughed when Victoria pulled her into a hug. "I'm very well!" the young singer answered happily.

"Yes, I can see that. I always knew you would be here, someday." She gestured to the theater around them.

Christine blushed at her praise. "Thank you".

Victoria shifted uncomfortably. "I was very sorry to hear about your father's death. He was a great man, I always enjoyed the time we spent with the two of you at the seashore when we were children."

Christine nodded "Thank you, Victoria. We did have some fun times!"

Victoria furrowed her brow when she heard La Carlotta making a commotion behind her. She tossed a dirty look over her shoulder at the Prima Donna before she noticed the disapproving look from her brother. She plastered on her practiced smile, earning her a subtle wink from Raoul.

"I must be going. I'm sure I will be seeing you, Christine!" she said, as she turned to return to her brother.

"Au revoir!" Christine called to Victoria as she hurried off.

Victoria joined her brother as he was finishing up with the managers. He bent down to whisper in her ear, "Let's get out of here before the Diva sings this aria!"

She tried to stifle a chuckle. "Sounds like an excellent plan to me. But what is going on?" she said, referring to the whispers going around the cast and crew of the Opera, and to the concerned look on Raoul's normally relaxed, smiling face.

"I will tell you when we get to the carriage."

She raised an eyebrow. "You had better," she teased gently. They made a hasty retreat; as they were walking out she caught a movement from above out of the corner of her eye. She looked up into the flies, but there was nothing there…at least she didn't think she saw anything. She shivered, and hurried to keep up with Raoul.

Once they reached the seclusion of their carriage, he relaxed a bit. "It seems there is a ghost running about the Opera Populaire!"

She laughed. "Surely you jest! A ghost? Please, old wives tales and superstition."

He spread his hands helplessly. "That's the rumor going around anyway. They seem to be obsessed with it!" he added, as an afterthought.

"So you do not believe there is a ghost?" she asked nervously.

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Why? Don't tell me you believe those silly superstitions! Honestly, Victoria, Philippe paid a pretty penny for you to study under some of the best educators in Europe. You are far too intelligent to believe in such silly things!"

She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. "Oh posh, you know me better than that!"

He grinned at her affectionately. "Of course, no one knows you better!" he teased.

She threw her glove at him, playfully. "You!" she said with exasperation.

"Are you looking forward to the gala tonight?" he asked her after a few minutes.

"Of course…you know how I love the Opera."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, I know. If it weren't for your love of the Opera, I highly doubt that either Philippe or myself would have endeavored to become patrons."

"Well, of course my brothers would have excellent taste!" she exclaimed.

The rest of their ride was spent in silence. Victoria hadn't mentioned Christine to her brother, though she knew how fond he had been of her when they were younger. Her childhood friend had harbored quite a girlhood crush on her brother. It wasn't hard to see why. Good looks ran in the De Chagny family, Raoul had inherited their father's blonde hair, which he wore in locks that hung to his shoulders. A strong jaw line and lovely green eyes added to his looks. He was the spitting image of their father.

Victoria had honey blond hair, like her mother, and like her mother she had brilliant blue eyes that rivaled the purest sapphire. Creamy skin, soft features and a beautiful smile added to the youngest De Chagny's charm. Many men had asked for her hand, but her eldest brother, Philippe, had left the decsion entirely up to her. This caused many tongues to wag in higher Parisian society, but the family was so well known and respected, and had enough money that such a small deviation from tradition was discretely overlooked.

As their carriage pulled into the winding driveway of her home, Raoul promised to return to escort her to the Gala later that evening.

That evening, Raoul and Victoria were seated in their box, chatting until the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the performance. It was enchanting; she watched with amusement her brother's reaction when he recognized the young soprano singing the lead.

"_Can it be? Can it be Christine?" He rose and began to applaud. "Bravo!" he shouted. "Long ago, it seems so long ago. How young and innocent we were!"_

She applauded as well, watching her brother with a smile on her face. He turned and abruptly left their box. He didn't have to tell her his destination. She knew exactly where he was heading. She sat forward in her seat to watch the last of the performance, and joined the rest of the audience when they rose to give her a standing ovation.

"Brava, my dear," she said softly.

She rose and took her cloak from the box keeper. She instructed the woman to advise Raoul when he returned to the box that she had decided to return home without him, and to remind him to congratulate Christine on her behalf.

She was about to exit the box when something caught her eye on the shelf by the door. Certain the shelf had been empty earlier, she looked about the box with suspicion. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she shrugged and departed the box, picking up the object and lifting it to her nose as she swept out the door.

It was a sweetly scented crimson rose with a black ribbon tied around the stem.


	2. Chapter 2

Victoria was walking down the marble staircase when she felt a hand on her arm; she turned to see Monsieur Andre.

"Ah, Lady De Chagny…you aren't leaving, are you? You must come celebrate with us!" he said happily.

She smiled.

"Thank you monsieur, but…" He cut her off by whisking her away to the backstage area where everyone was cheering and celebrating the success of the Gala.

"Nonsense…just one glass of champagne!" he insisted.

She smiled again.

"All right, thank you." Andre led her down the crowded corridors to where Monsieur Firmin was waiting with two filled champagne flutes. She accepted the glass, but didn't take a sip. She noticed her brother in the crowd and saw her chance to escape.

She handed the glass back to Andre, saying, "Thank you, but I see my brother and must go to him. If you'll excuse me…" She curtsied and hurried off.

Victoria caught up with her brother, taking his elbow.

"Raoul! You left me to those money vultures!" she hissed at him while gesturing toward Andre and Firmin.

He laughed at her obvious irritation.

"Forgive me, Victoria…I never dreamed they would catch you so quickly."

She glared at him, then softened her expression.

"I'm returning home now…give Christine my best!"

He nodded.

"I shall. Goodnight." He gave a quick kiss to her forehead. She smiled at him and turned to walk away.

In her haste to leave the Opera house quickly without Andre or Firmin noticing she was gone, she followed unfamiliar, unlighted corridors, not knowing where they led, and soon found herself hopelessly lost.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath. She heard a deep chuckle resonate from the shadows.

"How very unladylike, Lady De Chagny. Surely the Comte didn't teach you such profanity," the voice of silk reprimanded softly.

She scowled.

"How ungentlemanly of you to hide in the shadows and not show yourself to a lady," she hissed in return.

"Touché, Mademoiselle, but as I am not a gentleman, the rules of your society do not apply to me."

She crossed her arms, a small frown forming on her beautiful lips.

"Well, pretend for a moment that you are, and please tell me how to find one's way out of this maze of corridors!" There was a silence, during which she began to fear the ghost had left her there alone. She stamped her foot irritably. "Who are you?" she asked the emptiness.

"I am called the Phantom of the Opera," the voice whispered into her ear, sending a chill down her spine.

"There are no such things as ghosts," she stated, with more confidence than she felt.

"Ah…but can you be sure?" he challenged.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find an adequate response, so she closed her mouth and looked around, hoping to get a glimpse of her mysterious protector and antagonist.

"I assume that since you followed me here, you must have wanted something." Once again she heard nothing. Then she suddenly felt his warm, hard body press against her back and his arm stole intimately around her waist. She tried to stifle a small gasp of alarm.

"I wanted to see if you had received my gift," he whispered. His warm breath danced on her ear and neck, sending a chill down her spine. She raised the red rose slightly.

"Excellent…until the next time, Victoria," the voice breathed into her ear. Never before had her name sounded so beautiful!

She spun on her heel and felt a shiver of fear. There was nothing and no one behind her. Victoria took several deep breaths and was waiting for her racing pulse to slow when she heard the unmistakable sounds of celebration coming from the hallway in front of her.

"Thank you," she said softly to thin air, as she walked towards the merriment and out of the Opera.

The next morning, she was awakened by her housekeeper, Judith.

"Begging your pardon, Mademoiselle. The Vicomte is here, and he's in an odd sorts right now…" she ended uncertainly. Victoria sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, watching the older woman's kind face for a moment.

"Very well Judith, make some tea and tell the Vicomte I will be down in a few minutes."

The elderly housekeeper hurried out of the room. Victoria pulled on a day dress of a pale green and braided her hair before she went downstairs to the drawing room to see what the fuss was about. She entered to see Raoul pacing irritably.

She entered.

"Raoul…what in the world has you so worked up?" He glanced up and scowled before ripping a letter from his pocket and thrusting it at her. She took it, giving her brother an odd look as she opened the letter and scanned it.

_Written in bold script on the parchment were the words, 'Do not fear for Miss Daae. The Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again.' _

She examined the paper front and back, frowning.

"There is no signature," she pointed out.

"I know! It must be those managers!" he said angrily.

"You don't know that Raoul. Try to keep an even head about this," she pleaded.

"Don't tell me what to do!" he said shortly.

She drew herself up angrily.

"Look, Raoul, you came to me. Don't get testy, I haven't done anything here," she hissed.

His features softened as he approached her.

"I'm sorry Victoria. I didn't mean to take this out on you." She relaxed slightly and placed a hand on his arm.

"I understand. Go see the managers. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for all this."

He nodded.

"You're right. Thank you. I'll see you later?" She smiled as he kissed her cheek.

"You're welcome," she said softly to his retreating form.

She heard the front door open and close again, she sighed as she sank onto the sofa. Henri, the butler, came in with a tea tray, looking around for Raoul.

"He's already left, Henri. Thank you, though."

He bowed before leaving the room. She poured herself some tea, and sipped it for a few minutes before returning to her room to wash and dress for the day. She was dressing when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" she called out.

Judith came in.

"A letter for you, Mademoiselle." She smiled at her mistress as she handed over the message, giving a small curtsey before retreating.

"Thank you, Judith," she murmured as Judith left the room.

She opened the envelope and read over the missive. It was from Christine.

'_Victoria, please meet me in my dressing room at two o'clock. It is very important that I speak to you. Tell no one of this note!'_

'_Christine'_

Victoria glanced over at the clock on her mantle; it was shortly after eleven. She decided she had enough time to take care of some business in town before meeting Christine, but was preoccupied all morning about the hastily scrawled note she had received from Christine Her concern for her childhood friend grew by the moment.

Arriving at the Opera House at exactly two o'clock, Victoria found Christine's dressing room and knocked on the door. It was opened just a crack, and she found herself looking into one chocolate brown eye.

Christine sighed in relief when she saw who it was and cast a look around the empty corridor behind Victoria before she opened her door all the way, allowing Victoria to enter.

As she stepped in the small dressing room, Victoria raised an eyebrow at the fearful look in her friend's eyes. Christine gestured to the small divan. Victoria sat down and looked expectantly at the young singer. Christine began to pace back and forth, throwing wary glances at the mirror.

Victoria broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Christine, what is it? What has you so worked up?" When there was no answer from the young singer, Victoria rose and took her by the shoulders.

"Christine! What's wrong?" She felt the younger woman's shoulders begin to shake. She pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her cry on her shoulder.

"It was all a lie! All of it…" Christine sobbed.

"What was a lie? I don't understand," Victoria asked, frowning, as she tried to make any sense of her friend's rambling.

"The stories my father told me about the Angel of Music. There is no angel! And he…I…there…" She began sobbing harder.

Victoria led her to the divan.

"Christine, you must calm yourself. I can't help you if I don't know what the matter is," she said lightly.

Christine threw a terrified glance at the mirror before jumping up and pulling on her cloak with shaking fingers.

"I know this is terribly rude of me, but may we speak of this at your home? I…promise I will explain. But not here."

Victoria nodded.

"Of course. Come." She took Christine's arm and led her out of the opera house to her waiting carriage.

Once they had arrived at Victoria's home and were tucked away into the drawing room with cups of tea, out spilled Christine's tale of her journey to the bowels of the opera house; of her tutor, who was in fact the Phantom of the Opera. Victoria remained silent, letting the young girl relieve her burden.

Christine looked at Victoria with wide eyes.

"Please, don't tell Raoul. I promised to not tell a soul, but…" she trailed off, tears forming in her eyes once more.

Victoria rose and moved to sit next to her on the sofa.

"Christine, I won't tell anyone. We used to keep each other's secrets all the time when we were younger. I understand, you've been through a terrible ordeal, and you needed to talk to someone."

Christine gave her a weak smile.

"Thank you, Victoria…I don't know what I would have done without you." She sighed, running a frustrated hand through her curly locks. "I feel wretched! He…my tutor he inspired me to such greatness, I feel as though I am betraying his trust."

She looked down at her hands, which were clenched in her lap.

"But he frightens me so! And his face! It's…hardly human, and yet…" Her eyes took on a faraway look. "And yet, it doesn't change anything." She looked at Victoria, and managed a small smile. "I sound like a raving lunatic, I know!"

"Not at all, you sound like you've been through a rough ordeal. You need to sleep." She affectionately brushed an errant curl away from Christine's face "Come, I'll have my carriage take you home, and I promise, not a word to my brother."

Christine gave Victoria a grateful smile.

"Thank you Victoria, I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come."

Victoria stood and hugged her friend.

"Think nothing of it. If you ever need me, you may come here, anytime."

"Thank you."

Victoria walked with her to the front door and instructed her driver to return Christine to the Opera. She walked back into her home and sighed as she sank down onto the sofa. This was turning into quite a mess; she felt it could only end in tragedy and heartbreak.

A few moments later, Henri appeared.

"Excuse me. Mademoiselle. A letter has come for you." She took it and flipped it over, feeling the blood drain from her face when she saw a red wax seal in the form of a skull.

Victoria fumbled to get the envelope open. She took out the black edged parchment and held her breath as she read the short message.

'_Be at the Gates at the Rue Scribe in 30 minutes.'_

She tucked the letter into her purse, pulled on her cloak and departed. She arrived with a few moments to spare. She felt rather foolish waiting in the shadows by the gate; it wasn't exactly befitting a lady of her status. She was brushing some lint from her glove when strong hands grasped her arms and dragged her back into the shadows.

Her body was slammed into the wall, the breath knocked out of her lungs. She closed her eyes, gasping, as she tried to calm herself. She smelled the intoxicating scents of sandalwood, candle smoke and another spicy scent.

Opening her eyes, she found herself looking into the furious eyes of a tall man wearing a mask.

'The Phantom of the Opera!' she thought to herself.

The golden eyes bored into her very soul; she shuddered and turned her head away. He leaned closer to her, until she felt his warm breath on her bare neck.

"What did she tell you?" he hissed.

She wanted to run, but his hands were on either side of her head, trapping her against the wall. She narrowed her eyes as she glanced up.

"That is none of your concern," she said firmly, sounding much braver than she felt.

He grabbed her arms, pulling her closer to him.

"What did she say?" he growled into her face.

She jerked her arms out of his grasp and tried to push him away.

"Again I say to you, that is none of your concern!" she yelled at him.

As he pulled her by her wrist deeper into the shadows, he roared, "It IS my concern! WHAT DID SHE TELL YOU?"

"I promised her I wouldn't tell a soul!" she shouted back. She realized just how much danger she was in.

She watched him back away, clenching and unclenching his fists while taking deep, shuddering breaths in an obvious attempt to calm himself down. He had not been prepared for her to react as she did, and he was trying mightily not to do her harm. He had wanted to frighten her, not kill her!

She took a breath for courage, and opened her mouth to speak.

"You would do well to try speaking to me civilly instead of threatening me. I might give you more information," she said evenly.

He sent her a murderous glare, which she returned. She was more than surprised when he began to laugh.

"You, Mademoiselle, are no helpless damsel in distress," he said, finally.

She crossed her arms. "What made you think that I was, the mere fact that I'm a woman?" she challenged. He wisely remained silent.

She sighed irritably, wondering how she had been dragged into the middle of this mess.

"Look, Christine was frightened, and needed to talk to someone. I've been her friend since we were little children. I will not betray her or you," she said softly.

He jerked his head up, looking at her in shock.

"I have your word?"

She nodded.

"Of course, but…" She raised her hand in warning. "If ANY harm comes to her, I will go straight to the _surete_ and tell all that I know.'

He whispered, brokenly, "I would never hurt her."


	3. Chapter 3

Victoria wasn't sure what to say. She heard the emotion in his voice…this man obviously loved her young friend, but Christine had feelings for Raoul.

'_Oh, this is going to be messy,' _she thought to herself. She bit her lip. '_What does one say to the Phantom of the Opera?' _ She thought idly.

He broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I…forgive me Mademoiselle. I should not have yelled at you."

"It was understandable," she answered softly.

She turned to look at him as he straightened himself up to his full height. He was a t least a foot taller than she was. Her breath caught in her throat, why, he was extraordinarily handsome! His body was long and lean and she already knew that his muscles were hard. His face, although half covered by a white porcelain mask, had well defined cheeks, full lips and a strong jaw line, and his golden eyes seemed to see into her very soul.

"I never meant to frighten her…she enjoyed my company when she thought me to be her handsome angel, " he rasped, not looking at Victoria. His voice broke slightly; then his icy and threatening demeanor asserted itself once more.

Victoria was unsure what to say to the man before her.

"This is just a bit of a shock for her. Everything she has had to support her has been torn from her, first her father and now her Angel of Music. She has always been kind of…flighty."

He rounded on her. She didn't back down, but he took some pleasure in seeing her pale slightly.

"Your brother doesn't seem to mind!" he spat.

She scowled.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she retorted.

"Everything!" he shouted. "It has everything to do with it! She won't ever give me a chance because of him! He has the De Chagny good looks, the money, and the place in society. He can take her places, in the light, where she belongs! But he will never love her as I do!" he yelled.

She bit her lip.

"Have you even tried to tell her of your love?" she tossed back at him, without thinking.

As soon as she said the words she wished she could take them back. His fists clenched and she was slammed back into the wall with so much force that she fell to the ground.

He pulled her up roughly.

"What would you know about my life? You couldn't even begin to imagine how I wish I were a normal man. But I can't just try and behave as though I am like other men. You, who were blessed with beauty and poise, you are nothing but an ignorant child who knows nothing!" he spat.

She felt her lips begin to tremble as she fought back tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…I never meant…I" he tightened his grip on her arms as she bit back a sob.

He stared at her face, which was contorted in pain. He abruptly released her, pushing her away from him as he did. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks, and scolded herself for such a display. He disappeared into the shadows. She ran after him, but found nothing.

Rubbing her arms as she walked out into the daylight to her waiting carriage, she thought about the man with whom she had just argued. She returned home, lost in her thoughts. She took a short nap and woke up feeling refreshed and ready for the Opera that evening. But there was an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't identify.

Victoria arrived at the Opera House before Raoul, slowly working her way through the crowds to their box…surprisingly, box 5 again. She seated herself and waited for her brother to join her. Thankfully she didn't have to wait very long.

"Sorry, I had to speak to the managers before the performance started," he said to her upon seating himself while casting a worried glance at the stage.

"Is everything alright?" she asked softly.

He looked distracted as he nodded.

"Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about."

"You are a terrible liar…but I suppose you will tell me when you are ready." Feeling apprehensive, she turned her attention to the stage where the opera was beginning.

She sat there nervously, folding and unfolding her program tensely. Raoul reached over and took her hand. She jumped at the unexpected contact, still on edge from her meeting that afternoon, before blushing in embarrassment. She pulled her hand away and turned her attention back to the opera, getting so wrapped up in the music that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice booming through the auditorium.

"Did I not instruct that box 5 was to be kept empty?" the voice spat angrily.

Victoria looked over at Raoul in shock; he shook his head in warning. She glared at him, but her attention quickly snapped back to the stage where it sounded as though La Carlotta's loud singing suddenly changed to froglike croaking.

'_No, it must be my imagination!'_ she thought.

Then it happened again, and again. Victoria's look of horror matched that of La Carlotta as the sobbing diva was ushered off the stage. The managers announced that the opera would begin again shortly with Christine playing the role of the Countess in La Carlotta's place. There would be a short interlude of ballet in the meantime, so Victoria settled back into her seat and tried to enjoy the ballet.

She heard a scream, and suddenly saw the body of Joseph Buquet hanging by a rope from the rafters above the dancers. She leapt to her feet, stifling a scream, as the rope loosened and the body fell to the stage floor. Raoul was on his feet as well and pushed past her to exit the box. Hardly noticing his absence, she watched the ballet dancers milling around and heard various audience members scream in horror at the gruesome sight on the stage.

Finally after a few minutes of watching the chaos on the stage Victoria knew she couldn't remain in Box 5 any longer. She decided to find out some details, so she made her way backstage and found Madame Giry looking around frantically.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Victoria…have you seen Mademoiselle Daae?" the normally imposing woman asked nervously, The stern ballet mistress was obviously shaken by the evening's events.

Victoria shook her head, but she guessed that wherever Christine was, Raoul surely wasn't far away.

"I think I saw her and the Vicomte heading towards the roof!" a ballet rat called out.

Victoria nodded.

"Thank you, my dear. I will find them and let them know that she is needed."

"Thank you," Madame Giry said, distractedly.

Victoria ascended the spiral stairs leading upward, but halted just inside the door when she heard Raoul and Christine on the rooftop.

'_Anywhere you go, let me go too…Love me, that's all I ask of you… '_

She turned to leave, thinking how much Raoul would hate that she was listening, but she couldn't tear herself away. She heard Christine tell Raoul that she must return.

As the rooftop door opened, Victoria heard Christine cry out, "Oh Raoul, what of Victoria? I'm sure she received quite a fright…"

"She'll be fine. She's made of stronger stuff than most people think," he responded confidently, his pride in his sister evident in his praise.

Victoria moved away from the door and hid in the shadows as they passed.

She crept out onto the rooftop, not wanting to return to the nightmare that had occurred below. The cold air felt good on her skin. She looked out over Paris; the view from the roof was incredibly beautiful. Lost in the beauty before her, she jumped, startled, when she heard footsteps behind her. She spun around, and saw a dark form huddled on the roof, holding a rose.

Victoria wanted to flee from the roof, but she found she couldn't tear herself away from the sight she saw.

"_I gave you my music, let your song take wing, and now how you've repaid me…denied me and betrayed me."_

She heard him begin to cry, and was surprised to find she also had tears in her eyes when she heard the heartbreak and hurt in his beautiful voice. She swiped them away furiously.

"He_ was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. Christine…"_

She held her breath, not wanting to alert him to her presence. It would be impossible for her to leave the roof without being detected, so she stood there, immobile. Suddenly he shot to his feet and ran right past her, across the roof, to perch himself on a statue.

"_You will curse the day you did not do all the Phantom asked of you!"_

Victoria shivered at the menace she heard in his voice. He remained on the statue with his arms flung wide for a few moments, breathing harshly, before finally climbing down.

'_Wonderful Victoria…he's going to see you standing here like a dolt_!' she thought to herself furiously. She closed her eyes in the foolish hope that he wouldn't notice her. He'd have to be blind not to see her, standing there in her gown of crimson satin against the newly fallen snow. She kept her eyes closed and began shivering. When nothing happened she thought maybe he had left and not seen her.

When she felt warm velvet enveloping her shoulders, her eyes snapped open. She felt him standing behind her, still breathing harshly. He had draped his cloak over her bare shoulders. Grateful for the warmth of the soft fabric, she pulled the cloak tightly around her.

"Did you enjoy the opera, Mademoiselle?" he hissed.

"You killed a man!" she choked out.

"Ah yes, and what a disappointment the world shall feel in his absence." he sneered.

She found she couldn't disagree with him.

"Perhaps you would like it better if he was still alive, roaming about the Opera like a predator…and you the prey," he whispered maliciously into her ear. He laughed when she shuddered from the image he'd conjured.

Victoria spun around suddenly.

"Stop this! What is it you want?" she demanded.

If he was surprised at her outburst, he hid it well.

"What do I want? To be treated like a human being! To be treated with respect and dignity. For the world to acknowledge that I am not the monster my face makes me appear to be!" he seethed.

She bent her head in shame.

"That's not what I meant. What is it you want from me?"

"What makes you think I would want anything from a young, noble, spoiled brat?"

She drew herself up as his insults hit home, causing him to chuckle at her indignation. This little noble woman had a fire to her!

"Because you have shown yourself to me! You must need something or else I would have never known you existed until tonight!" she retorted angrily.

He chuckled darkly; a sound that sent shivers up and down her spine.

"You are very wise for one so young. You are correct; I do need something from you. When I am ready for it, I will contact you" He bowed and brushed a kiss on the back of her hand mockingly before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.

Victoria stood there in shock, the back of her hand tingling from the feather light kiss he had left upon it. She shook herself before she realized she was still wearing his cloak and standing on the roof of the Opera house. She hurried off the roof, and collected her own cloak before she departed the Opera House. She had looked briefly for Raoul, but no one knew where he had gone. He wasn't in their box nor had she seen him backstage.

Weary and nursing a small headache, she decided to retire for the evening. She arrived at home and tucked the cloak the Phantom had given her in the closet. She then quickly peeled off the satin gown, pulled on a nightgown and eagerly crawled into her bed. She didn't sleep well. Her dreams were haunted by a stunningly beautiful voice and the vision of a man hanging from a noose.

She woke early the next morning, feeling quite out of sorts. She thought perhaps a ride would calm her nerves. She dressed in a riding habit, and made her way to the stables where she saddled her favorite mare then tore down the lane.

After an invigorating run, she set a leisurely pace back to her home. As she rode up the drive, she saw her elder brother's carriage in the front drive. She dismounted and asked the stable boy to care for the mare, anxious to see what Philippe was doing here.

Victoria entered her home, and found Henri waiting for her just inside the door with an anxious look on his weathered old face.

"Excusez moi, Mademoiselle, but your brother, the Comte has just arrived."

"I know, I saw his carriage outside. I wonder what he wants?" she said, more to herself than to Henri.

"Very well, would you prepare tea, please," she said.

He bowed and departed as she turned and entered the drawing room where her elder brother was waiting. She smiled as she walked into his outstretched arms for a comforting hug.

"Philippe, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

He returned her smile; then he frowned.

"Can't an older brother stop by to see how his little sister is faring?" he replied as he sat down on the divan. Victoria chose a chair to sink into.

"Of course you can, but normally you give me some warning before you arrive.

Philippe knew his sister was very intelligent and wouldn't appreciate being treated like a simpering fool, like most female members of the nobility were.

"I heard some…disturbing news, regarding our brother."

She raised an eyebrow. Perhaps if she played dumb, it would delay the inevitable.

"What news?" she asked, with an innocent look in her eyes.

Her brother narrowed his eyes at her; then he softened his expression. It was not Victoria with whom he was angry, after all!

"I understand that Raoul has been seeing a young chorus girl from the Opera Populaire, and I am told they are quite serious about one another. There have been rumors of an engagement." He looked at her pointedly. "Would you know anything about this?"

She bit her lip; she could not betray Raoul without betraying her own involvement. It would open the door for more questions that she wasn't prepared to answer.

"No, I haven't spoken to Raoul about anything like that. I do know that he had been having lunch occasionally with Christine Daae. You remember her, Philippe…Gustav's daughter?"

He thought for a moment before recognition spread on his face.

"Ah yes, the little Swedish girl…but it is most scandalous!" His expression darkened again. "Bringing such common blood into the De Chagny line!"

She sighed.

"Philippe…I believe that he loves her, and she loves him as well. Is that not what Mother and Father would want for him?"

Philippe had to give it to his sister; she was wise.

"Yes," he conceded. "But he is a De Chagny! Our family is very old and distinguished. To marry a mere chorus girl!" He stopped, frustration showing on his handsome face.

Victoria sat forward in her chair, taking his hands as she pleaded with him.

"Philippe, he is happy. Happier than I've seen him in a while, I daresay. She is a good match for him. He would not be happy with someone else, of noble blood lines." She gave him a soft smile. "You and I both know it, he's never loved anyone but Christine."

He sighed in resignation.

"I should have known better than to come here hoping you would be on my side. Very well…I shall stay out of it." He ran a hand distractedly through his dark hair, much as their father used to when he was frustrated. "Just, for the love of God, try to keep him out of trouble!"

The young woman nodded.

"I will try. Philippe. It is the best I can offer for the moment!"

Nodding, the Comte rose to his fee. Drawing his sister into his arms he kissed the top of her head.

"I know it is, but please have a care." He looked down at her. "I don't like what I've been hearing about a madman roaming about the opera house. I don't want anything to happen to you or to Raoul."

Victoria smiled up at him.

"Don't worry. I promise we'll be cautious."

"I know you will. Take care of yourself, little sister." With a last kiss upon her cheek, he left the room.

She slumped onto the sofa once he was gone; the past few days had exhausted her both mentally and physically. She hoped Raoul knew what he was doing and with whom he was dealing. Victoria knew without a doubt that if the Phantom decided Raoul was in the way he would do him serious harm. She fell into a fitful slumber.

She awoke, startled, when Henri came into the room.

"A letter for you Mademoiselle." She blanched, but took it from the elderly butler. She saw the red wax seal and tore open the letter, although she sensed what was it contained.

'_Meet me at the Rue Scribe as before at one o'clock. We have much to discuss…such as today's visit from the Comte de Chagny.'_

_Your Obedient Servant,_

_O. G._


	4. Chapter 4

Glancing at the mantel clock, Victoria realized she had barely an hour. She flew upstairs to change into a more appropriate dress. She was rummaging through her close, looking for a dress, when she found the cloak he had given her the previous night. Victoria hurried to pull on a silk gown of the palest lavender and shoved her feet into matching slippers. She grabbed the black velvet cloak and rushed downstairs, pulling her own cloak on as she ran out the door.

She paused as she stepped out of her carriage to give instructions to her coachman that she would hire a carriage home. She glanced around to see if anyone was around who would see her before she slipped inside the gate.

Victoria cast a nervous glance about her, not allowing herself to relax this time when she saw nothing; even so, she jumped and nearly screamed when she felt a hand clamp down onto her shoulder.

She spun around and looked up into his face. When she saw the harsh look he wore, she took a nervous step back away from him.

"What is it you want?" she inquired, hoping she hid her fear well.

"I would like to know what you and your brother talked about," the man responded smoothly.

"That is personal family business," she retorted, hoping to discourage this line of conversation.

He chuckled.

"It is hardly a secret that the Comte is not pleased with his younger brother's choice in female companionship…I assume he forbade the marriage?"

She bit her lip as she shook her head.

"No Monsieur…he plans going to stay out of Raoul's affairs and trust his judgment in this matter."

He stiffened at this unexpected news.

"I suppose you had a hand in this?" he spat.

She furrowed her brow.

"I just want my brother to be happy. Christine makes him happy. How can I deny him that?" She saw his fists clench, and became very aware that she was treading a very thin line. "What is it you want from me?" she asked again, after a moment of tense silence.

"Merely information, I am afraid I don't keep up with gossip for the most part, and I would like to keep an eye on my angel…you have the information I seek readily available to you."

"I shall not spy on my brother for you," she responded, horrified at the idea of spying on her brother and friend.

He glared at her.

"If you value his safety you will Mademoiselle."

She paled and raised her hand to her throat.

"You wouldn't!"

He looked at her intently, challenging her to doubt his sincerity. She took a shuddering breath.

"This is despicable! How can she ever trust you if you have me slinking about in the shadows reporting on her every move?" she shouted.

"You didn't seem to mind when you were spying on us all on the roof," he sneered.

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them up to look into his golden eyes.

"I suppose there is nothing I can do to stop this?" Her voice held a note of pleading in it.

His silence said volumes more than spoken words. She sighed in resignation.

"Than it seems that I have no choice."

"A very wise decision, Mademoiselle," he chuckled softly.

She glared at him as he approached her to remove his cloak from her shaking hands. He twirled it around his shoulders, then drew himself up to his full height. Her breath caught in her throat. He radiated sheer power. If she hadn't been so terrified of him, she might have found herself attracted to that power and the raw sensuality that she sensed. She pulled her cloak around her tighter, feeling the chill of the stone passageway. He stared at her for a long moment.

"Is there anything else you would like to know, Monsieur?" she asked.

He nodded, somewhat surprised at her acceptance.

"Much…" he answered cryptically, as she looked around the dark, out of the way passageway in which they stood. She shuddered when it occurred to her how easily he could kill her here. Her body would never been found.

It dawned on him as she stood shivering that standing there in the dark, chilly passageway might not be good for her health. Did he dare take her into his sanctuary? He thought of his other options, and growled to himself when he saw that taking her to his home was the only option open to them.

"Come!" he commanded.

She looked up at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitantly held out a black leather clad hand to her. When she hesitated, he attempted to assuage her fears.

"It will get rather dark, I do not want you to become lost," he explained somewhat patiently.

Despite her misgivings, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her into his dark labyrinth. They walked in silence, each using the time to think about all that had occurred.

He took a deep breath and felt it catch in his throat at the fragrance of gardenias.

'_Her perfume…'_ he thought to himself. He turned his head slightly to steal a look at her. She was very beautiful; her womanly beauty was not like Christine's childlike innocence. Victoria was a classic beauty. She had honey colored hair, which curled at the ends. She had a smooth, creamy complexion and eyes of deep sapphire blue. Had he not been so consumed with Christine he might have taken more interest in this exquisite beauty that trustingly followed him to his dark domain. He shook his head.

'S_he's not Christine,'_ he thought to himself.

Victoria watched him watching her, but wisely refrained from comment.

She tried to hide her surprise when they arrived at an underground lake.

"I never knew this was here," she said softly.

He turned to her and gestured to a small boat, that had seemed to appear from nowhere. She stepped in, uncertainly, and seated herself in the bow, then looked into the black water as he expertly poled them across the lake. Once they arrived at the dock on the other side, he jumped gracefully out and held out a hand to her to assist her from the boat. She stepped onto the slightly muddy ground and watched in confusion as he tapped on a small protruding rock.

A stone slab swung silently out to reveal an ordinary looking oak door. He opened the door and ushered her inside. The lavish furnishings she saw surprised her. She was so busy looking around she didn't realize he was waiting for her to remove her cloak so he could hang it up. He finally cleared his throat impatiently in an attempt to get her attention

She jumped, startled, and saw him waiting. She pulled her cloak off and handed it to him, watching as he hung it up next to his own before he led her to a drawing room. Victoria seated herself somewhat uncomfortably on a huge, plush leather sofa by the fire.

He cleared his throat again.

"What did Christine tell you?" he asked firmly.

She furrowed her brow.

"I thought I told you that was none of your business." She looked at him warily, knowing she shouldn't bet on his understanding. She sighed in frustration. "She told me about your deception, about the Angel of Music and about your…unpleasant reaction to her removal of your mask," she said softly.

He clenched his fists, but said nothing, which encouraged Victoria to continue. "She felt that she had been lied to; I believe she doesn't know what to think anymore. All she had thought, everything she had counted on to calm her has been stripped away from her. The Angel of Music and, to a lesser degree, her father, though that was many years ago…"

He closed his eyes as she related the details of his wicked deception.

"She told you about all that?" he asked, brokenly.

Victoria nodded slowly.

"The one thing she didn't tell me was your name."

He stiffened. His name…could he trust her with it? "My name? My name is… Erik," he said finally, after a few moments of hesitation.

She looked at him.

"Erik" she repeated softly. She straightened herself slightly, finding a more comfortable position on the sofa.

"She doesn't fear you…but I do believe she fears for Raoul," she said after an uncomfortable silence.

Something in his eyes changed then, although she couldn't identify what it was. She looked down at her hands.

"Why are you doing this to her?"

He stared at her, his eyes boring into her very soul.

"Because…I love her," he answered simply.

She met his gaze steadily.

"Does she love you?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Perhaps that is something you could tell me."

"I don't know…I haven't talked to her since yesterday. Raoul hasn't even called on me to tell me…" she trailed off realizing this might be rather painful for him. She looked around the room.

"Where did you get all these things?" she asked, hoping to distract him.

"On my travels around Europe, and the Middle East." He answered, dismissing the question with a wave of his hand.

Sensing a dead end, she sighed and slumped back into the sofa. He was about as talkative as a sponge!

"Your older brother will not stop the Vicomte from marrying Christine?" he asked, after a few moments of contemplation.

"No he won't. For the most part, he allows Raoul to do as he pleases."

"Do you agree with the match?" Erik asked with clenched fists, the only outward sign of his discontent.

She nodded.

"Yes I do. They are good together. I've always thought so," she answered carefully.

"That is enough…you will keep me updated," he said coldly before rising. "Come, I will return you to the surface"

She stood and followed him out of the underground house. Once he had returned her to the Rue Scribe, he left her with instructions to meet him there once a week at the same time. He placed a brass key into her hands but didn't bother explaining it to her.

"I will be in contact with you," he said before he disappeared.

'_Insufferable man,' _she thought to herself, as she hailed a passing hansom cab to return to her home. She was more than surprised upon her arrival to find Christine waiting impatiently for her in the drawing room.

Victoria entered the room and sat down wearily. "Christine, what's the matter?"

Christine smiled and pulled a chain from the front of her dress for Victoria to see. There was a crucifix on the chain, as well as a diamond engagement ring.

Victoria smiled in recognition of her mother's ring; it had always been passed down from one De Chagny bride to the next. "I'm so happy for you both!" she said sincerely, hoping she didn't betray her anxiety.

"Are you alright?" Christine queried.

Victoria nodded.

"I'm fine…I guess I'm still a little shaken up by last night…that's all."

Christine mused, "I…he's most likely very angry with me. I've betrayed him in the worst way."

Victoria gave her a puzzled look.

"I'm not certain that I understand."

Christine sighed, stating, "He has always insisted that I not see anyone. My focus is to be my music and nothing else. He is very strict about that."

'_Shame on you, Erik,' Victoria_ thought angrily. Her anger faded, however, when she figured it was the only way Erik had been able to think of to keep Christine's affections to himself. It wasn't right, but for some unknown reason she could not fault him for it. God knows she wished she could, but she couldn't.

"I'm sure he will forgive you. He seems to care about you."

Christine thought for a moment.

"I know. I believe he is…in love with me," she said, hesitantly. "And it makes me feel horrible, but I…I am very frightened of him," she said sadly.

"Why? Has he ever hurt you?" Victoria asked, concerned.

"No, never. But he does have a terrible temper, and he killed Joseph Buquet and threatens to do Raoul a serious harm." She paused, her eyes taking on a wistful look. "But there is something about him that draws me to him. His speaking voice alone would make the angels weep. And I have never met anyone who could sing as beautifully as Erik."

Victoria raised an eyebrow.

"Erik?"

Christine's eyes grew wide when she realized her mistake.

"Oh lord! Please don't tell anyone I told you his name!"

Victoria took her hand.

"I promised you I wouldn't repeat anything you told me. That remains unchanged."

Christine looked relieved.

"Thank you for your discretion. Does Raoul know any of this?"

"Bits and pieces, though I haven't had the heart to tell him everything. He still doesn't believe there is a Phantom. Last night we went up to the roof of the opera house. That is where he proposed marriage to me."

"He's always been somewhat skeptical about these things." Victoria said, hoping to ease Christine's anxiety.

Christine smiled weakly.

"I suppose. I should return to my flat. I'm meeting Raoul for dinner."

Victoria smiled.

"Well then you should be off! Shouldn't keep him waiting," she teased. Christine laughed, for the first time in a long while.

Victoria saw her out and called Henri to make her some tea. She had to sit down and think. Her double life was beginning to catch up with her. She felt like she hadn't slept in weeks and her head ached constantly.

An envelope lay on her desk, containing an invitation to the annual Ball Masque held by the Opera Populaire. The event would take place eight weeks hence.

'_At least I have SOMETHING to look forward to,'_ she thought, somewhat bitterly.

Several weeks later, she and Christine were shopping for fabric for their gowns for the masque ball. Christine had been a bit wary at first, but when Victoria promised to pay for the yardage, she relented, somewhat reluctantly. They were in a fairly high priced shop when Victoria found the most perfect material for her gown.

She was fingering the light blue silk when Christine gasped.

"Christine is everything alright?"

Christine nodded as she held a bolt of rose-colored silk. She looked at Victoria with a question in her eyes, waiting for an opinion.

"Oh, Christine, it's lovely! It would compliment your coloring very nicely," Victoria said, smiling at her young friend. Sometimes she forgot that Christine was only two years younger than she. Christine still had a childlike wonder and a strong need for praise and compliments.

Once they made their purchases, Victoria took Christine to her favorite dressmaker to select designs and order their gowns. They were going to look fabulous!

As they walked out of the dressmaker's shop, Christine turned to Victoria.

"Let me buy you lunch!"

"Nonsense!" Victoria protested, but Christine would not back down.

"Please? You have given me so much; let me do this one small thing?"

Victoria gave in.

"Alright…lead the way!" Soon they were seated in a small café, giving their orders to the waiter.

"So, the masque is in four more weeks. Will you be bringing an escort?" Christina asked, over steaming cups of tea.

Victoria rolled her eyes.

"No, I find aristocratic men to be such a bore!"

Christine laughed, "I 'm sure most of them are, but Raoul and I are concerned about you. You have been looking tired lately. Are you feeling well?"

Victoria stared at the tea in her cup.

"Yes, I'm feeling very well. I've just been having a little trouble sleeping recently. That's all." She hated lying, and she wasn't very good at it. Fortunately, Christine was not paying too much attention.

"Very well, I just wanted to ask," the young singer said, after a moment.

Her friend nodded and reiterated, "Yes, I'm fine. But thank you for your concern."

They finished their lunch gossiping about the ballet rats, and discussing Christine's upcoming wedding, in which Victoria was to be maid of honor.

As they stood up to leave, Victoria asked Christine about Erik.

"Well, I have not seen him since the night Joseph Buquet died. He hasn't come to me, and although I've tried calling to him, he refuses to show himself. I don't think he has been attending any performances either." She sounded depressed and concerned.

Victoria wasn't sure what to say. She knew that Erik was keeping himself very busy composing a new opera, and when he wasn't working on his music, he seemed to be interrogating Victoria for any new information about his beloved and her upcoming nuptials to Raoul.

"I'm sure he'll come to you soon," Victoria assured the young woman.

Christine nodded absently.

"I hope you are right."

They parted company after lunch. Christine headed off the direction of her flat, and Victoria was about to hail a cab, when, without warning, she was pulled into an alley.

She jerked her arm away from Erik.

"I do wish you would stop doing that!" she said irritably. He ignored her comment.

"Come, I wish to hear about your shopping trip with Christine," he said vaguely. She shook her head in resignation, then followed him without further comment to the Rue Scribe and through the underground passages to his home.

He showed her to the drawing room where she sat down comfortably on the sofa to field the inevitable questions from Erik.

"So, she chose a fabric for her gown?" he inquired.

She nodded slowly, wondering why he had an interest in her of fabrics.

"Yes, umm…rose silk, I believe."

"Silk is quite pricey, is it not?" he prodded.

Her face showed her confusion as she responded.

"Yes, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

He stared at her for a minute.

"You must really care about her to pay that much money for a gown she may wear just once," he finally said.

She scowled.

"Of course I care about her. She's the closest thing I've ever had to a sister. She and I were very close when we were younger, and I was devastated when she left. There was no one but Raoul for me to play with." She sighed in resignation. "And she loved the silk so much! I couldn't help it. I know she hasn't been as privileged as I have. She's going to marry my brother, so the least I can do is help her to dress the part."

He studied her for a moment; his unwavering attention was making her uncomfortable.

"Why have you not gone to her?" she asked quietly.

He looked startled, but managed to hide it fairly well. "I will go to her when I choose, and not sooner. I am at no one's beck and call."

"She misses you."

He stood up swiftly, anger coursing through and around him. "She misses her _angel of music._ She only tolerates me as a substitute," he said bitterly.

Victoria examined her nails.

"Can't you accept her friendship?"

He rounded on her.

"Excuse me?" he spat.

She straightened herself.

"I said, can't you just accept her friendship, companionship?"

He grasped the mantle, trying to control himself.

"I used to tell myself that was all I needed. A friend, companion. But I was just fooling myself. I am 42 years old; I have most of my life without love of any kind…." He stopped, visibly withdrawing into himself as he turned to look at Victoria. He expected to see pity and loathing; he was moved when he only saw compassion on her face.

"You've been alone your entire life," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Yes I have, my dear, so you see why I crave more," he spat angrily.

"I'm sorry. I have perhaps spoken out of turn. Maybe I should go."

She stood and picked up her cloak, and was mildly surprised when Erik came over to drape it over her shoulders for her while she clasped it.

"Thank you, Erik."

He inclined his head slightly before leading her out to the Rue Scribe. The air between them was charged with tension.

"You will be attending the Bal Masque, will you not?" he asked suddenly.

She nodded,

"Yes, of course."

"Are you…do you have an escort?" he asked, tentatively.

She shook her head

"No…I…No." she said, finally.

He nodded once before turning abruptly and heading back to his home, leaving Victoria to wonder what new tricks he had up his sleeve.


	5. Chapter 5

The night of the Masque came sooner than Victoria had expected. She hadn't seen Erik in over two weeks, which made her nervous, although she wasn't sure why. As she bathed before dressing for the Bal, she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that she had no escort this evening. Many men had asked her to accompany them, but she had turned them all down. She steadfastly refused to believe that she was disappointed a certain opera ghost hadn't asked to be her escort. Sighing, she rose from her rapidly cooling bath water to pull a robe on, and then went to her bedchamber to prepare herself.

Judith took a deep breath and stood back to admire her handiwork. "You look magnificent, Mistress," she said, with tears in her eyes.

Victoria smiled.

"Thank you, Judith." She turned and looked at her image in the mirror. The mirror told her she did look her best that evening; no doubt she'd have many young men swarming about her.

The light blue silk clung to her frame perfectly, the flowing skirt making her look taller and thinner. The neckline was low enough to give an enticing view but it was not vulgar by any means. Her honey colored hair was piled on her head in profuse curls with a few loose tendrils framing her face. Woven throughout her hair were tiny sapphire starbursts that matched the pendant on the gold chain that adorned her neck. She had a shimmery stain on her eyelids and lips, as well as a bit of rouge to pinken her cheeks ever so slightly.

Judith helped her on with a sapphire velvet cloak, lined in the blue silk of her gown, and handed her a mask made of blue feathers and crystals in various shades. She stood in the doorway watching as her young mistress climbed into her carriage, watching as it disappeared down the curved drive and onto the street.

Victoria arrived at the opera house before her brother and Christine did. Placing the mask upon her face, she exited her carriage, ascended the stairs and entered the foyer. She handed her invitation to the uniformed steward at the door while a footman appeared at her elbow to divest her of her cloak.

She was greeted with smiles and nods of approval from the gathered guests. She accepted invitations to dance from several of the assembled young bachelors. After a bit, she grew bored and skirted the celebration by moving around the edge of the room. With her back to the open doors, she felt a chill and shivered slightly. She was unaware of anyone watching her…

Erik had noticed her the moment she walked into the foyer. He had been keeping a close eye out for his beloved Christine, but when the vision in the blue gown appeared, he was thunderstruck. He did not at first recognize Victoria, not until she turned toward him and he saw her unmistakable sapphire blue eyes gazing from the feathered mask.

His heart began to beat more rapidly. He wanted to talk to her…maybe even to ask her to dance with him. He knew it was probably a foolish move, but he made his way toward her as she watched the dancing with an amused smile.

He put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She spun around, obviously startled.

"Monsieur?" she asked questioningly. She did not recognize him. He wore a black domino mask, and was dressed even more elegantly than usual.

"May I have this dance?" he asked softly, as he gave a little bow. As soon as she heard his voice, she knew who he was.

"Erik?" she breathed. He merely smiled as he held out a hand to lead her to the dance floor. She took his hand, watching him in shock. Once out on the dance floor, he became hesitant, but she stepped closer to him and put her left hand on his shoulder; thus encouraged, he brought his hand up to her waist and began to lead her in a waltz.

As they danced, he couldn't help but drink up her beauty. "You look exquisite tonight, Victoria," he said, softly, so only she could hear.

She blushed at his compliment.

"Thank you, Erik. You are looking quite dashing yourself." His jaw tightened and his golden eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

She hardly felt her feet move across the floor as they danced. She was focused on him, as he was on her. He tried to commit her every movement, smile and glance to memory, for after tonight she would no doubt hate him. He surprised himself when he thought it would be a shame to lose her friendship. Although he'd never admit it openly, he'd come to care very much for the young lady in his arms. She had angered him more than anyone had before, she challenged him at every turn, but she was so…wonderful. She was a kind, caring and selfless person, she was a gem; whoever managed to capture her heart would indeed be a lucky man.

Never before had he felt like he did as he danced with her. He did not recognize the feeling; it was new to him.

'_Acceptance perhaps?'_ he thought to himself, as he pulled her closer, inhaling the sweet scent of gardenias that never failed to remind him of her. The waltz ended all too soon. He led her off the dance floor and gave the back of her hand the lightest of kisses before he disappeared.

Victoria felt as though she was drunk from sweet wine. Never before had a mere dance affected her so. She shook her head, trying to regain her wits. As she struggled to compose herself, she saw her brother and Christine entering the Bal.

She walked over to them and hugged them both.

"You look wonderful!" she said to Christine.

Christine giggled.

"Thank you, Victoria. You...you look stunning!" she said.

Victoria laughed when Raoul pulled himself up, indignant that she hadn't complimented him as well.

"You look quite handsome Raoul."

He gave her a grin.

"Thank you." He kissed his sister's cheek before tugging Christine off in the direction of the dance floor.

"I shall see you two later!" Victoria called with a smile as they walked off. She positioned herself by a large marble column to watch the members of the opera who had assembled and were performing on the stairs.

Nearby, Raoul and Christine were bickering quietly about their engagement. She heard Christine utter a phrase that caused a wave of discomfort to flood her senses. "_Look, your future bride!" _ She closed her eyes.

'_Erik heard that…' she thought. _She watched as Raoul pulled Christine back to the dance floor and spun her around.

Then, without warning, the entire foyer was plunged into darkness.

'_Erik…' _was the only thought in her mind, as she stood up straighter in apprehension.

Victoria hurried into the main foyer, and halted, almost frozen to the spot. Erik no longer wore the black domino mask and tails. He now was dressed in a form fitting a crimson velvet suit with a long trailing cape, and a terrifying skull-like mask. He truly looked intimidating, frightening and, handsome in a somewhat macabre way. She approached Christine and Raoul, just as Raoul turned abruptly and stalked away.

'_Where the devil is he going?' _ she thought to herself irritably.

She took Christine's hand then winced slightly when the young singer's fingers clamped tightly around her own. She watched Erik descend the grand staircase slowly, with the grace of a stalking panther. She watched him throw a leather bound volume of music at the feet of the managers. She watched as he tormented and teased the managers and La Carlotta. And she felt truly afraid when she felt his gaze upon her, a gaze that shook her to the core. She saw him turn his attention to Christine.

"_As for Ms. Christine Daae…no doubt she'll do her best; it's true her voice is good, she knows that should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn. If pride will let her return to me her teacher…her teacher…"_

During his little tirade, he had been approaching the two women. He studied Christine for a moment, and Victoria saw the anger flash in his eyes as he ripped from Christine's neck the chain that held the engagement ring.

"Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!" he hissed, before whirling to run back up the stairs and disappear through a concealed trap door in a cloud of red smoke.

At that moment, Raoul appeared, wielding a sword, and jumped through the trap door after him. Christine ran forward to see what was going on. Victoria, in the meantime, grabbed her cloak and hurried out of the Opera house to the gates at the Rue Scribe. She took out brass the key Erik had entrusted to her some weeks ago, entered the darkened passage and began her way to Erik's home. She'd managed to memorize the way, so he no longer needed to meet her and guide her back and forth. 

She was stopped short by a pair of hands. She gasped in shock before realizing who it was. She sighed in relief before remembering why she was down there; she jerked her arm out of his grasp.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" she demanded, harshly.

He stiffened.

"I am doing what is necessary!"

Victoria sighed.

"This isn't the way Erik! You're too good for this!" she shouted at him.

He rounded on her.

"But I'm just a monster in her eyes…too evil for her to have the common decency to tell me she was leaving. She was just going to run off without so much as a word to me!" he seethed. He took a breath, obviously trying to control his raging anger.

"You heard her on the roof. You heard her betray me! Heard her throw me aside like a THING!" he roared.

She refused to back down.

"You can't force her to love you!" she yelled.

"I have never accepted failure before, and I'll be damned if I will start now!" he shouted. "Now, I suggest you stay out of this; it is no longer your concern! I'll have no more meddlesome little girls who know nothing!" he spat venomously.

She took a step back as his insults hit their mark. She couldn't ignore the hatred behind his scathing, ugly words.

"Fine, I will never bother you again! But may I remind you that I wanted nothing to do with your insidious plot! You FORCED me to spy on my best friend and my brother!" she shouted back at him. "You came to me, remember! You threatened to harm my brother if I didn't obey you!" Her voice echoed off the rocks around them, her face flushed with anger and her eyes blazing.

As quickly as her anger came, it subsided.

"I thought I was your friend," she said after a moment, her voice weak and shaking.

"I don't need a friend!" he retorted.

She stiffened.

"Oh really, because friendship has been such a constant in your life?" she said, with a touch of malice poisoning her voice. She almost smiled when she saw her barb hit its mark. "You will never have to see me again," she stated coldly. She began to walk away, then paused, and craned her neck to look at him.

"I respected you…you were the only man I've ever known outside of my family who has treated me with respect. Treated me like an equal. I have come to care about you, Erik, but I now see that my care was wasted. You only wanted to use me for your own purposes and nothing else." she said, sadly.

She turned and hurried out of the dark passages with tears streaming down her face. He started to follow her, but she was gone. He had heard her nearly silent sobs, as he watched her beautiful form run from him. For the first time in his life he regretted his hasty, wicked and ill-thought words.

The next day, she woke with a pounding headache. Erik's insults were still ringing in her mind. She groaned as she got out of bed. She heard a knock on her door as she pulled her robe on.

"Come in," she murmured. Judith entered, bearing a letter. Victoria took it, relieved to find it was from her brother.

'_Please meet me at noon at the Opera Populaire. We must talk.' _

_-Raoul_

She sighed.

"Judith, draw me a bath, please?" She soaked in the warm, soothing water for a long time.

Two hours later, feeling quite refreshed, Victoria was on her way to the Opera house. She walked up the stairs to the foyer, where she saw Raoul was waiting for her.

"Raoul, what is it?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

He shook his head.

"Not here…we will discuss it in private." He pulled her to the manager's office, which they found to be empty.

"Raoul. What is going on?" she demanded.

"This 'Opera Ghost' is demanding they perform his opera, and Christine is to sing the lead. She's still quite upset after last night at the Masque. Would you please talk to her?"

Victoria sighed. She wanted nothing to do with any of this anymore…perhaps she could go visit Philippe in Marseilles? When she saw the desperate look in Raoul's eyes, she nodded.

"Alright…where is she?"

"In her dressing room. She refuses to see anyone, even me."

She turned and walked to the door.

"I will see if I can do anything, but I promise nothing."

He nodded. She reached to turn the doorknob.

"Victoria, you look exhausted. Are you well?" he asked, seeing for the first time the dark circles under her eyes and the set of her shoulders.

She forced a smile to her face.

"Yes, I just have a bit of a headache. Most likely too much excitement last night!"

He stared at her for a moment.

"Alright…as long as you are well, I couldn't bear it if you were unwell. I need you," he said quietly.

Victoria took his hand in hers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, I am fine. Thank you." She nearly ran out of the office and down to Christine's dressing room.

She knocked on the door, and saw it open slightly.

"Oh, Victoria, it's you…please come in."

Christine closed and locked the door once Victoria had stepped inside.

Looking at her young friend, Victoria asked, "Christine, what is it?"

The young singer turned away.

"I don't think I can do this. I'm…oh God!" she sobbed. She collapsed to her knees as she cried.

Victoria flew to her side.

"Christine! Don't worry. It will work itself out. I promise."

She gathered her friend in her arms, rocking her back and forth, as Christine sobbed onto her shoulder. She cast a furious glare at the mirror, hoping Erik was behind it. Surprisingly he was, and didn't miss the glare. He had stiffened when Christine began to cry. He hated to see her cry. He turned and fled to his underground home, unable to take Christine's sobs and more angry looks from Victoria.

'_It's the only way,'_ he reminded himself.

Victoria remained at rehearsals for the rest of the day. By the time she returned home, she was in a foul mood and her headache had worsened. She went straight to her bed and curled up in it, wishing she could just disappear.

As she lay there, she tried to deny that she had feelings for Erik and that those feelings were the reason his remarks had hurt her so.

'_No! I don't care for him. I hate him. But he has always been alone. He's never had anyone to care for him, to teach him right from wrong.'_

_No! He hurt you and he's manipulating Christine and threatened your brother.'_

' _But I think I care for him!' _As her conscience warred with itself, she closed her eyes in pain, trying to clear her mind of her conflicting thoughts. Finally, she slept.

The next day she woke late, and couldn't rouse herself from her bed. Judith was worried about her young mistress. She had noticed the recent unusual behavior of her normally even-tempered and levelheaded mistress. Victoria had been snapping at everyone and rarely smiled. She shook her head, reminding herself it was none of her concern, as Victoria finally managed to drag herself out of bed.

She went to her bathing chamber and saw her reflection in the mirror. The circles under her eyes were even darker, and her face was pale. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of thoughts of Erik as she stepped into the bath Judith had drawn for her.

For three days, the pattern repeated. She awoke late, looking sick and pale, and spoke to no one. Her brother finally came to visit her after she had not been seen at the Opera House or with any of her friends. She was sitting in her drawing room, staring out of the windows distractedly, with a cup of cold tea in her hands.

"Victoria?" he asked softly. It hurt him to see his sister looking so unhappy.

She started and turned her head toward the sound of his voice.

"Oh, Raoul…it's good to see you. Why are you here?"

"Christine was worried about you, as was I. She hasn't seen you in several days." He approached and seated himself on the divan next to her, running a finger over her cheek.

"I've not been feeling well, that's all. I'm fine I assure you." Victoria said softly, not wanting her brother to worry any further.

"You never were a good liar, you know," he muttered.

She gave him a weak smile.

"I'm not lying…I have been under the weather."

He sighed.

"Right. I haven't the energy to argue with you. Do you feel up to dining with us tonight? Get out of the house?"

She thought for a moment.

"Alright, that sounds nice."

He smiled.

"Excellent! We will be by to pick you up at seven this evening."

"Seven it is, then."

He kissed her cheek before standing up and leaving the drawing room.

That evening, she was waiting by the door when the carriage drove up the drive. Raoul exited the carriage to assist her in, and Christine patted the seat next to her as Victoria climbed into the carriage.

"I've been worried about you, Victoria," Christine whispered to her friend.

She smiled at the young diva.

"I'm sorry, I've had a headache the past few days. That's all."

They arrived at the restaurant, and were seated quickly at a secluded table, away from prying eyes. Raoul couldn't help but notice how Victoria picked at her meal, even though it was one of her favorites. He chose not to say anything; he knew it would do little good.

"Will you be coming to the debut of 'Don Juan'?" Christine asked Victoria.

Victoria's head shot up.

"I don't think so. I've grown tired of the Opera lately," she lied.

Christine looked worried.

"Please, you must come!"

Victoria raised an eyebrow at Christine's pleading.

"Why must I come?"

Christine bit her lip.

"Please, just say you'll come!" She needed the reassurance that her friend would be in the audience.

Victoria thought for a moment.

'T_his is a bad idea.'_ her mind argued, but when she saw the pleading look in Christine's eyes she relented. "Very Well. I will be there" '_I just hope HE'S not. But it is HIS opera, how could he not attend?'_

Victoria was silent for the remainder of the meal. She was grateful when Raoul dropped her off at home without any arguments.

She immediately went to bed, and slept late into the next day. She rose and decided to make an appearance at the Opera. She arrived in the middle of the 'Don Juan' rehearsal. She settled herself near the back of the auditorium and listened to the minor harmonics in the orchestrations. Victoria shook her head at the sheer musical genius of it all.

'_It's a shame no one will ever appreciate this opera as it should be appreciated,' _she thought idly.

A few moments after her arrival, the company broke for lunch. She approached the stage, and met Christine with a smile.

"Would you care to join me for lunch?" Christine nodded enthusiastically, so they went to the small café across the street from the Opera.

"How are you Christine? I know this must be hard for you," she said, sympathetically.

Christine nodded.

"You have no idea…it's almost as if he's mocking me with these sensual lyrics!" she remarked, almost bitterly. They gossiped about other things, trying to distract each other from the nightmare that awaited them back at the Opera house.

Raoul, meanwhile, had conspired with the managers to try to capture Erik the night of the debut. The had contacted the police and arranged to have the Opera house heavily guarded by officers, in hopes the Phantom would put in an appearance.

The night of the debut of 'Don Juan' came, just a few short weeks later. Victoria had not heard a peep from Erik, though she was furious with herself because she longed to hear from him. She entered the Opera House, carefully avoiding all the gendarmes, a feeling of dread in her stomach.

She seated herself in the box with Raoul, casting nervous glances about the ceiling. Raoul himself was on edge, not that she could blame him. All too soon, the lights dimmed, and the performance began.

The opera progressed fairly smoothly…until the main love song, a duet between the portly man who was performing as Don Juan, and Christine, called 'Past the Point of No Return'. She furrowed her brow when she saw the lithe male figure appear on stage. '

_That can't be Ubaldo Piangi…who on ear…oh lord, Erik!_' she realized, with horror.

She cast a worried glance around the auditorium; so far, she and Christine appeared to be the only two people who had noticed the tenor on stage was not Signor Piangi. '

_Erik, what are you doing? You are going to get yourself killed!' _It was then she saw Raoul sit forward in his seat '

_He knows_.'

As the song became more passionate, Raoul became more agitated. Victoria was barely able to tear her eyes away from the scene on the stage, but when she did, she saw tears in her brother's eyes. Victoria watched helplessly as Erik caressed Christine's body passionately; she returned his lustful looks as she sang to him. It broke her heart to see the hurt in her brother's green eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. She reached over and took his hand, offering him silent comfort. He responded with a gentle squeeze, but didn't take his eyes off the stage.

She watched Christine and Erik slowly ascend the twin spiral staircases on the stage, but frowned as they stood close together on the bridge above. Christine stood in front of Erik while he ran his hands from her stomach, just below her breasts, up to her neckline, before threading his fingers through her hair.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me here with you, here beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go to…Christine that's all I ask of…"_

Victoria's eyes were filled with tears; next to her Raoul had stood and was speaking to the sniper who had joined them in the box. At that moment, Christine ripped away Erik's mask and wig.

Victoria leapt to her feet. Along with the entire audience, she gasped in horror, her hand going to her mouth. She could see the anger, hurt and betrayal in Erik's eyes. She watched as he looked around, seemingly in a daze, before taking out his sword and slicing through a rope, opening a trap door and dropping through it with Christine.

Then she heard it…a horrible rumble and the sound of glass tinkling. She looked up in horror and realized the great chandelier in the center of the dome above was falling! She gasped and turned to find Raoul standing behind her. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, shielding her eyes from the horrors in the auditorium.

She heard the deafening crash of glass and metal as the chandelier barreled into the stage. She turned and saw flames licking at the heavy stage draperies.

"Raoul!"

"Get out of here! Go home!" he shouted.

"Where are you going?"

"To save Christine!" he leapt from the balcony, climbed down to the stage and disappeared into the confusion.

Victoria looked around nervously before running out of the box. Should she attempt to gain access to Erik's home? She decided against it. She joined the crush of people trying to flee the disaster, and it was some time before she could get a carriage to take her home. As she walked through her door, she was shaking. The events of the past few weeks, on top of the horrors she had just witnessed, were burned into her memory.

She climbed the stairs wearily, undressed, sank onto her bed and began to cry.

'_Why, Erik? Why all the death and devastation?'_

As her sobs intensified, she tried to make sense of it all until, at last, she cried herself into a fitful slumber, filled with nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

Victoria was awakened early the next morning by frantic pounding on her door. She pulled on a dressing gown and hurried downstairs to answer the door herself, cursing that she'd given her staff the day off.

Her brother lurched through the open door. She threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

"Thank heaven you are alright!"

He returned her hug.

"Yes, I am fine…Christine, however, is still a bit shaken."

"What on earth happened to her?" Victoria inquired.

Raoul told her of all that had taken place deep beneath the Opera House. His frantic descent into the depths following Madame Giry's instructions, the trap door that plunged him into the depths of the subterranean lake and his resulting close brush with death, then his struggle with Erik resulting in being captured by the deadly Punjab Lasso. He spoke of Erik's diabolical plan to keep Christine with him forever by threatening to kill him, Raoul, if Christine didn't choose Erik. And, he told of their escape in the small boat, after Erik's breakdown, and of the angry mob that was closing in on the underground house as he poled the boat away.

"He's mad! He's utterly stark raving mad!" Raoul raged as he paced the length of the drawing room. "I am taking Christine to England for a time, to put distance between her and the Opera house, and him. Christine could use your friendship and support right now. Will you please come with us?"

Victoria had remained silent during Raoul's story; she had fought back her tears, knowing they would reveal her true feelings about Erik. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't run away with you just now. Someone must remain here to quell any rumors that may surface." She hoped this would sway him.

He nodded in agreement.

"You're right of course. Christine is waiting for me at my house. I didn't want her to go back to her flat alone last night after all that had transpired. We will be going by there to pack her things, then on to the train station for the next train going to the seaport. I must be off."

"Please write to me, both of you? And give Christine my best." She hugged him tightly.

He returned her hug.

"I shall tell her what you said, and you will be in both of our thoughts. Please take care, Victoria."

She walked him to the door, then ordered her carriage before nearly running up the stairs to get dressed. Thirty minutes later, she hurried out to her waiting carriage and instructed the driver to leave her off near the Rue Scribe and to return home.

Since the area all around the Opera house was swarming with gendarmes, she discretely strolled up to the gate in the Rue Scribe, and after determining that no one had observed her, quickly opened the gate and ducked through. She carefully navigated the dark corridors to Erik's home. When she finally reached his home, she paled when she found the door standing wide open. With a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she slowly moved through the doorway and began to search the house for any signs of Erik. The darkness was absolute. None of the many candles were burning. She felt her way to the nearest table, where Erik had kept an elaborate candelabrum and the means of lighting the candles. By touch, she managed to produce a single light, but was at least able to see to light more candles as she searched the rooms.

She abandoned her search after looking around for nearly an hour, extinguishing the candles as she returned to the door. She took a small lantern she had found to light her way out of the caverns.

'_If he doesn't wish to be found, he won't show himself. Oh God, I hope he's all right! Raoul mentioned they had heard a mob shouting about murder as they left the cavern…if they should have found him!' _she thought dejectedly as she carefully made her way out of his underground home and back to the surface. Leaving the lantern inside the gates, she chose to walk home; by the time she walked in her door she was exhausted.

Shortly after she returned from the Opera house, members of the press and gendarmes had appeared on her doorstep. After a lengthy interrogation by the police and an exhausting grilling by the reporters, Victoria was again alone in her home. The household staff would not return until the next morning.

Thankful for the quiet that had finally settled over the house, she had just curled up in her study, on the sofa by the fire, with a book and cup of tea when she heard a quiet knock on her side door. Surprised, she rose to her feet and set the book down, glancing at the page number before she allowed it to fall closed.

She walked to the side door and opened it. There was no moon, and the garden was dark. She looked all around, but she saw no one there. She was about to close the door when, from the corner of her eye she saw a flash of white behind the dark shrubbery next to the door. She looked again and nearly screamed aloud when a tall figure suddenly loomed before her.

She took a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

"Erik!"

She stood there for a second before standing aside and gesturing for him to come in. He looked hesitant about entering her house.

"I am alone…there is no one else here" she said softly. He seemed relieved as he slowly stepped in. She closed the door and locked it behind her.

She walked in front of him. "I was so worried…Raoul told me about the mob. Did they find you? Are you hurt?"

He glared at her murderously, and she instantly regretted her words.

"I meant physically injured," she amended softly. He shook his head.

She sighed in relief. "Please, come in…can I get you anything?"

He stalked into the study and stood before the fireplace, his hands gripping the mantel tightly.

She took a deep breath and followed him into the room. She could see from his posture that he was angry and resigned; his shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

"Where is…is she alright?" he asked as he turned from the fire, his voice full of unshed tears and anger.

"She's with Raoul, and yes she's alright. A bit shaken but unharmed."

He heaved a deep sigh.

"I never meant…I wouldn't have hurt her," he whispered almost inaudibly.

Victoria pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.

"I know that, and I believe she does too. A lot has happened…" She approached him slowly and paused right in front of him.

"Why did you take her?"

He raised his head to look at her.

"I loved her, and I wanted her to be with me. It was the only way I could think of. I didn't want to frighten her," he rasped.

Victoria looked into his eyes, and saw the heartbreak and pain he carried plus more. He looked as though he hadn't slept the night before, she realized he most likely hadn't eaten anything either.

"Will you take some food?" She asked.

He shook his head; he'd never cared much for food.

"Some tea at least, you need something Erik." She gave him no time to answer but spun to retreat to the kitchen. She was stopped by his hand on her arm.

She turned her head to look back at him feeling apprehensive until she felt his hand shaking.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, sounding even more broken than he looked.

"Because you are my friend…and you've been through a terrible ordeal."

"But all those things I said," he said softly, not looking at her.

She put a hand up to silence him.

"We will discuss that later, but now is not the time. I will go get the tea." She turned back around and made a hasty retreat. Once in the kitchen, she remembered to breath. She brought a tray of tea and a plate of biscuits back to the study and set them on the desk.

She handed him a steaming cup, which he took gratefully. She gestured for him to sit, as she sat on the chair behind her. They sat in silence as they finished their tea.

"I'm sorry…I know it's late and my presence here is not appropriate, but it was unsafe in my home and…" he said in explanation.

"You had nowhere else to go," she finished for him. "Erik, you are always welcome here and you may stay with me as long as you need."

She took his empty cup just as the mantel clock struck midnight. She took her time arranging the cups on the tray while thoughts raced through her mind. Finally, coming to a decision, she asked him,

"Do you have a place to sleep tonight?"

"I have a place in the catacombs set up for emergencies. I was going to return there."

She shook her head.

"Nonsense…you will stay here. Come with me; I will show you to a guest room." He looked hesitant.

"I will not leave you to return to the bowels of the Opera House while they are still searching for you."

He rose at last, and allowed her to lead him from the room, though he kept casting hesitant glances over his shoulder. They ascended the stairs and Victoria paused at an open door, gesturing for him to enter.

"There is a bath through the door on the left for your use. If you need anything, please, don't hesitate to call for me."

He nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

She smiled at him.

"That's what friends are for!" She turned and exited the room, leaving him to sleep.

The next day, she was mildly shocked that Erik was still abed at midday.

'_He most likely didn't sleep at all the night before,_ ' she reasoned. She had given Henri and Judith strict orders not to disturb the occupant of the guest room at the end of the hallway. She passed the time in her study, perusing all the newspapers for any news regarding the affair of the Opera Ghost.

She threw one issue aside with disgust as Henri entered the room. She looked up at him.

"Has my guest awakened?" she asked softly. The elderly butler nodded.

"Thank you Henri. Have Michel prepare a tray for me, and I will take it to him." He bowed stiffly before exiting the room.

She balanced the tray on her forearm as she knocked at the door.

"Erik, it's Victoria." The door opened, seemingly of its own accord. She stepped inside and the door swung closed. She set the tray on a table by the large windows. She turned to look at him.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, quite…thank you," he responded quietly.

She smiled at him.

"I thought you might want some breakfast. You didn't eat anything last night." He remained silent, as he regarded her for a moment. She began to feel uncomfortable under his intent gaze.

"Why?" he inquired softly.

She fussed with the silverware.

"Now is not the time," she said, hoping to avoid any more questions.

"No, no excuses…I treated you horribly, I tried to kill your brother and I threatened your childhood friend. I don't deserve your kindness and hospitality. So again I ask...why?"

She thought for a moment.

"Because, no matter what you may have said to me I still think of you as a friend…I still care about you Erik. And I couldn't and won't leave you to hide away in the dark cellars of the Opera. You deserve more than that." Her voice sounded steadier than she felt. "I guess I want to show you that there are good people out there that we aren't all trying to hurt you."

"And what of your reputation?" He prodded.

She looked at him confused for a moment.

"Surely tongues are going to wag if word of this, my stay here last night, gets around?"

She scoffed, "Let me deal with that, besides my family's good name has already been dragged through the mud …we will survive." She took a few hesitant steps towards him. "I know it's horribly improper, and I know my mother is turning in her grave. But I want you to stay here till you can secure another home of your own. The gendarmes will not look here for you, you will be safe…"

"But, I tried to kill your brother and spirit away your best friend!" he roared.

"I know this Erik, but I can't in good conscience send you back to that opera to die at the hands of the mob or police or other means!"

"I wish to die!" he shouted.

"Well that's too damned bad, Erik!" she retorted. "Because I will not let you kill yourself over Christine's fickle and naive whims!"

He clenched his fists.

"Don't speak of her in that way," he whispered murderously.

"Why not? It's the truth!" she snapped.

She didn't even see him move, until she felt his hand tighten upon her throat.

"You will not speak such words of her again!" he whispered against her ear.

She shivered as she kicked herself mentally. She had let herself forget exactly who she was dealing with.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, closing her eyes to prevent him from seeing the hurt therein. He released her and she touched her neck gingerly, knowing it was beginning to bruise already.

She backed away, slowly.

"If you need anything just ring…" She turned and fled the room, holding back her tears.

'_I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry,' _she thought to herself angrily as she stormed into her room and slammed the door.

After a time, feeling more composed, she looked over at the mirror on her dresser and could see the bruise forming on her neck. She sighed as she found a scarf that matched her gown somewhat and tied it around her neck.

'_Will he always make it so difficult to love him?' s_he thought, dejectedly.

She made her way back downstairs and ignored the concerned look her housekeeper was giving her. She thought for a moment before pulling on her cloak.

"I'm going riding, I'll return shortly." She strode out to the stables and entered, inhaling the sweet scent of hay and leather.

She walked over to the stall that held her prized mare, Persephone. Not seeing Pierre, the stable boy, anywhere around, she stepped into the stall and began to groom her. The animal whickered happily at the attention she was receiving from her mistress. Victoria stroked her velvety nose affectionately as she continued running the brush down the horse's sides and over her neck.

She heard the other horses become disturbed. She peeked out and saw nothing so turned her attention back to the mare in front of her; she patted Persephone's neck affectionately before turning to go to the tack room to retrieve her saddle and bridle.

"You are very good with her," stated a silky voice from behind her.

She stopped walking, but didn't turn around.

"They are magnificent creatures" she stated, then gathered up her tack and returned to the stall.

"I apologize for my actions earlier…I never meant to harm you." She felt his fingers brush her shoulders… and she shivered.

"Think nothing of it…" She turned to fling the saddle across the mare's back. He shook his head in protest.

"No, I should not have treated you so. There is no excuse for it."

She finished fastening the girth. She turned to look at him, all anger dissipating when she saw the look of pain in his eyes.

"Would you care to join me for a ride?"

Erik seemed a bit surprised as he studied her for a moment. He noticed the scarf she wore to cover the bruises upon her throat. He approached her carefully, tipped her chin up and gently pulled the scarf away.

Her hand flew to her throat in a futile attempt to hide the ugly bruises marring her skin.

He took her hand in his own.

"Please, forgive me…" he whispered brokenly.

Compassion spread over her features, as she squeezed his hand gently.

"I already have."

He ran a gentle finger over the ugly black and blue marks, sending a shiver down her spine. She stepped closer to him and raised her eyes to his before casting them down at the floor.

"I understand that you've been through a lot, at least these past two days, if not longer. You are not yourself," she murmured. He put a finger under her chin and tipped it up to look at him.

"That is no excuse for my mistreatment of you. I never meant to hurt you, Victoria…"

She smiled up at him.

"I know that."

He stared down into her blue eyes, becoming lost in their depths. She saw his lips part slightly as he slowly lowered his head. She tilted her face up slightly and let her eyes drift closed as she anticipated his kiss…

She felt a slight breeze and opened her eyes, and saw that he was gone. Angry tears formed in her eyes as she turned back to the stall and led Persephone out. She mounted hurriedly and urged the mare into a gallop, spurring the horse angrily.

Erik cursed himself as he stalked back towards the house.

'_What was I thinking? I almost kissed her…you foolish old man!' _his mind raged at him.

He stormed up to his room and slammed the door. He walked over to the window and leaned against the sill, staring out blankly. He didn't know how long he stood there, but he was still there when Victoria slowly rode up the drive toward the stables.

After handing Persephone to Pierre, she entered the house in a foul mood. She pulled off her cloak and threw it over a chair in the dining room and stomped up the stairs to her room. Pausing outside her door, she looked down the hall and saw no light peeking from under Erik's door. She shook her head sadly as she entered her room and closed the door softly.

She pulled on her nightgown and robe before glancing around her room for the novel she had been reading. She sighed deeply when she realized she had left it downstairs in the study.

She walked back down to her study and picked it up off the desk. Hearing a slight sound behind her, she whirled around. Erik stood in the doorway, looking guilty and miserable. She looked down at the floor, tracing the intricate pattern of the Persian rug with her bare toe.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I hope you don't mind, I was in search of a book…"

She shook her head,

"No, by all means. Please, anything in this house is available to you."

He nodded in thanks.

"I wish to apologize for earlier…I wasn't thinking clearly, and…"

She was confused until she realized he was speaking of their near miss in the stables.

"Think of it no more…I wasn't offended," she assured him.

Although she couldn't completely hide the disappointment in her voice, she hoped Erik hadn't noticed. He had indeed noticed, but quickly pushed the thought of what it might mean from his mind.

He turned to leave the room.

"Thank you for the book," he whispered softly.

She smiled at him as he turned and left. As soon as she heard him ascending the stairway, she quickly departed for her room.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning, Victoria was just finishing dressing when an incessant knocking at her door startled her. She rushed to open it, as it sounded urgent.

Judith was standing before her, holding a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Victoria without comment, and left. Victoria sat on the edge of her bed and unfolded it and read the message within.

'_Thank you my dear for your kind hospitality, however I must go. My muse has been awakened and I must begin composing once more. I will be in touch should I ever need you for anything.'_

_Erik_

She felt a crush of pain in her chest as she let the paper fall to the floor. She fought back her tears unsuccessfully. When Judith returned an hour later she found her mistress curled up on her bed in a tight ball still sobbing hysterically.

**2 Weeks Later- London, England**

Victoria decided that she needed a holiday. She arrived in London in time for Raoul and Christine's marriage, a quiet little ceremony with just Philippe and Victoria as witnesses. Philippe immediately returned to Marseilles but Victoria remained with Raoul and Christine. Although she begged Philippe to take her home, Raoul wanted her to remain close by. Raoul knew that as much as Philippe adored Victoria, he would be at a loss about dealing with her unhappiness.

Victoria stood at the window in her bedroom, staring at the incessant rainfall. She sighed before turning to leave her room. She walked down the hallway to the marble staircase and slowly descended. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she heard hushed voices coming from the dining room and she knew her brother and his new wife were arguing, as they frequently had since her arrival. It concerned her because she and her well being were usually the cause of the arguments.

"Raoul, we must do something! She hardly eats or sleeps, and she spends so much time by herself!" Christine pleaded with Raoul.

Victoria strained to hear she couldn't mistake the harassed tone in her brother's voice.

"She doesn't want our help, Christine. When she's ready to face whatever has caused her melancholy, she will most likely come to you. My sister is a very private person, and won't give an inch until she's good and ready."

Victoria felt a tear slip down her cheek but swiped it away hurriedly. She dared not move, lest she give herself away.

"If I didn't know better…I'd think she was suffering from heartbreak. Have you seen the way she stares out the windows, as though she's looking for something"? Christine asked softly.

"I have noticed. She's been looking tired and not herself for months now. I do wish she would tell me what has her so out of sorts. This isn't like her," she heard Raoul murmur.

She could almost see the scowl as her brother thought.

'_This is as good a time as any.' _She resumed her progress towards the dining room, ignoring the guilty looks she received from her brother and his wife.

"Good morning Victoria. I trust you slept well?" Christine inquired, as Victoria sat down at the table.

Victoria looked over at Christine, who was stirring her tea, and smiled weakly "Yes, very well. Thank you." She accepted a full teacup from the maid who had appeared at her side.

Christine watched her friend with concern.

"Victoria, would you like to accompany us to the Opera tonight? I've heard wonderful things about the company at the London opera house."

Victoria forced a smile to her face.

"That sounds wonderful!"

'_What are you doing!' _her mind screamed at her.

Christine tried to keep Victoria occupied that day, insisting they go to the market and walk about the gardens, despite the light rain and muddy ground. Victoria appreciated her attempts to lift her spirits, even if they were unsuccessful.

Victoria was finding it difficult to keep up her cheerful façade around her brother and Christine, especially since she was now aware of their concern. She was particularly unresponsive to the Opera that night. Raoul was more concerned than ever when she didn't even seem to enjoy Faust, her favorite Opera. As soon as the performance ended, Raoul called for their carriage and the three returned home.

She went straight to her room, collapsed on the floor and began to cry in earnest. '

_Why Erik? Why did you leave in the night, leaving me nothing but that cruel note of mocking appreciation?'_

Lost in herheartbroken thoughts, she had not heard Christine knock on the door and enter the room.

She rushed to her broken friend and pulled her into her arms.

"Victoria, what is it that makes you so unhappy?" she smoothed back her friend's hair, hoping to calm her down.

"H-He doesn't love me, nor will he ever," she moaned.

"Who doesn't love you?" Christine asked, confusion marked on her beautiful face.

Victoria clutched at Christine.

"Oh, Ch-Christine I've cared for him for months, and have watched him be h-hurt time and time again. A-And I always went b-back to help him, even when he said the m-most vic-vicious things to me. I still l-loved him," she sobbed onto her friend's shoulder. She began to sob harder as images of Erik flashed through her mind.

Christine was at a loss; she had never seen her friend so upset before. All she could think to do was rock back and forth on the floor until Victoria's sobs were softened to hiccups. At last, Christine rose to her feet, pulling Victoria up with her, and laid her on the bed. She removed Victoria's slippers and covered her with a soft blanket.

"Try to rest, Victoria. It will seem better in the morning," she said before closing the door behind her.

"But I don't want to see his face in my dreams," Victoria whimpered into the pillow, before falling asleep.

Victoria tossed and turned for most of the night, before giving up and just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with tears still streaming from her eyes.

'_I am so tired of crying!'_ She thought to herself angrily. She rubbed her eyes irritably before sitting up and glancing down at herself. She frowned when she saw she still was in the lilac gown she had worn to the Opera. She rose and pulled the laces loose in the back and let it fall to the floor and pool around her feet. She untied the laces to her corset, pulled the binding garment off her waist and threw it to the floor. She pulled on a fresh nightgown and slid back in bed.

As she lay down, she made an oath to herself.

'_I will forget him_.' She finally dozed off, not to wake until the next afternoon.

The weeks passed swiftly. She traveled around England and then to parts of Italy with Christine and Raoul for the better part of two months trying to forget about the tragic man she'd left behind in Paris. As much as she tried to thrust him from her mind, she found she couldn't, and found herself missing the familiar landscape of Paris.

One day shortly after their return to London, she approached her brother.

"Raoul, I...I wanted to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue and gestured to the downstairs maid, who was in the act of pouring tea for them both, to leave the room and close the door.

"I wish to return to Paris." She took a sip of the fragrant tea.

"Are you sure? You are more than welcome to stay here with us as long as you wish." He gave her a supportive smile.

"Yes, I'm quite sure. I've been away from home for far too long." She set her teacup down and sat back in her chair.

He nodded at her. "Of course, my dear, if this is what you want. I will make the arrangements at once."

**De Chagny Manor, Paris **

Victoria stepped into her home for the first time in nearly three months. It had been two weeks since her conversation with Raoul. She sighed as she saw Judith and Henri tidying the house and supervising the unloading of Victoria's trunks.

'_It is good to be home.'_

She helped Judith unpack her things in her room, hiding the blush that had crept up her cheeks when she heard the old woman clucking at her new wardrobe.

"Oh, this was delivered to you about two months back Mademoiselle." Judith handed her a letter, then left the room to see to her mistress's lunch. Victoria looked at the envelope curiously, not recognizing the handwriting, before opening it and reading the letter inside.

_Lady Victoria,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I believe you and I have a mutual friend in common, and he has been quite melancholy since leaving your hospitality although he will not openly admit this. I assure you he is safe, for now. When you receive this, please allow me to invite you to tea at my flat. We have much to discuss, I believe. If it will put your mind at ease, Erik will not be here, for he still hides himself in the cellars of the Opera. I apologize if this letter is in any way an inconvience. I hope to meet you in person._

_Nadir Khan_

She read and reread the missive twice over before flipping the envelope over.

"Henri," she called as she sat at her desk and scribbled a response.

Henri appeared at her door.

"Yes, Mademoiselle?"

She rose and handed her letter to him.

"Please send this letter to this address immediately, and alert me when I've received a response."

He bowed.

"Of course." He turned and left the room to summon a messenger.

Nadir Khan was perusing the newspaper when his servant, Darius, appeared before him.'

"Excuse me master, but you have a message from Lady Victoria De Chagny." He handed him the hastily scribbled note.

Nadir thanked the servant, opened the note and read it anxiously.

_Monsieur Khan,_

'_I must admit that I was a bit surprised to not only receive your letter, but also to learn of your acquaintance with Erik. I was not aware he knew anyone else. I would be honored to take tea with you. I shall arrive at your flat no later than 3:30 tomorrow, if you are agreeable to that.'_

_Victoria De Chagny_

"Darius, please return this telling her that 3:30 tomorrow afternoon will be perfect."

"Yes Master…but master, what of Monsieur Erik?" he asked nervously.

"He is composing in that infernal tomb of his. He will not return here for at least two or three more days." He sat back comfortably in his chair by the fire.

The next day, Victoria occupied her morning with shopping for items to liven her home a bit more. When she asked her footman the time, she was shocked that it had become so late. She gave her driver Nadir Khan's address, and arrived a bit late. She knocked on the door to the little flat. The door opened to reveal a nervous looking servant.

"Lady De Chagny?" She nodded. "Right this way, if you please, Mademoiselle." He gestured for her to enter.

She walked past him and handed her cloak and gloves to him, smiling sweetly.

"Thank you," she murmured. He bowed and showed her into the small living room, where a dark skinned man was standing before the fireplace.

The man to her and smiled.

"Lady De Chagny, I am Nadir Khan. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," he said, as he placed the customary kiss on the back of her hand.

She curtsied politely. "Likewise, Monsieur. I was unaware that Erik had any contacts in Paris."

Nadir gestured to the sofa; she sat down and smiled in thanks as Darius handed a cup of tea to her from a cart he had rolled in.

"Erik and I have been acquainted for many years." Nadir answered vaguely.

"How is it you came to know him?" She asked as she added sugar and milk to her tea, stirring it before taking a small sip, as she waited for his answer.

"I met him when the Shah of Persia ordered me to find Erik and bring him to the court to perform for the Shah and his mother."

She looked a bit surprised.

"I see…I had no idea…I knew he had traveled, but I did not know to what extent." Nadir observed her closely. She had such an open expression. Her emotions were plainly visible.

"_This woman has strong feelings for Erik,"_ he mused to himself. He chose his next words carefully

"You shouldn't take it so personally milady…he means nothing by it. But he has always been a private man, and he rarely shows his emotions. He sees them as weaknesses."

She laughed bitterly.

"Yes, I have noticed that!" She looked around for a moment. "I do hate to be rude, but why is it that you asked me here?"

"I merely wanted to share with you Erik's true feelings. You see, he has been staying here often since the fire at the Opera. He returns to those damned cellars only to compose. He has been quite out of sorts since he left your house. When he heard of your abrupt departure for London, he escaped to his sanctuary in the bowels of the Opera house. You apparently found yours in England?"

He raised a hand as he saw her mouth drop in indignation.

"I understand…I also find it very frustrating to be around Erik. But I do believe he cares for you a great deal."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"If he cared for me than why did he leave in the middle of the night with only a note?" she challenged.

"He told me about all that occurred while at your home. And, I believe that he panicked. He once entrusted his heart to another young lady, only to have her break it. He is terrified to allow himself to feel, for fear of experiencing that pain again. He has been through much in his lifetime. He cannot tolerate much more suffering or pain."

She looked confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I think you will be his redemption and comfort. You will need to be patient with him, but, in time, he will come around to you. I can assure you of that."

She sighed.

"I hope you are right, Monsieur Khan. What should I do?"

He smiled.

"Go to him…"

Victoria was stunned into silence by Nadir's advice. She bowed her head.

"I would never think to impose myself on him."

"I do not believe it would be considered in such a way. I think he would be rather happy to see you. He has been most lonely since your departure."

She scoffed, "That Monsieur, is where you are wrong. He has been lonely since Christine left. He sees me as a 'foolish, spoiled aristocratic brat'."

"That is not true Mademoiselle; Erik cares for you a great deal. But it is because he cares so much for you that he withdraws into himself. Erik has had very few friends in his lifetime and he has had a great deal of suffering, pain and rejection. His infatuation with Christine was only because of his own innocence regarding love." He paused. Trying to explain his taciturn friend to another was quite difficult. "You must trust me, Lady De Chagny; he DOES care for you and would be happy to see you again."

Victoria was unsure how to react to Nadir's revelations. Could she risk going to Erik?

"Why don't you at least try it, Mademoiselle?" he challenged subtly.

She bristled at this slightly.

"Perhaps I will." She rose, collected her cloak from Darius and put it on. "Thank you for the tea, Monsieur…and," she added softly, "for the advice,"

He bowed formally.

"The pleasure was mine, Lady De Chagny."

She smiled as he kissed the back of her hand. "I must insist that you call me Victoria. I do not hold with the usual formalities between my friends and acquaintances."

"As you wish, Victoria," Nadir replied, with a small grin.

She smiled as she exited his small flat. As she walked out, she wondered if she should indeed go to Erik beneath the Opera House.

'_Why should I…he threw me aside when he came to the realization that I wasn't her? But what if the Persian was correct and he does care for me and has missed me?' _She agonized over her decision as she sat in her carriage. She finally ordered her coachman to proceed to the Opera house. Her heart was pounding in her chest when they pulled halted before the Opera Populaire.

She exited the carriage and walked to the familiar gate at the Rue Scribe. She pulled the brass key out of her purse, laughing to herself that she still carried the damned thing with her everywhere, and entered Erik's dark domain. She deftly navigated the dank, moist corridors and soon she heard the sound of the mighty pipe organ in Erik's home. She recognized the piece he was playing as part of his Opera 'Don Juan Triumphant', and her heart constricted as she heard the pain he was pouring out into the notes. His strong emotion surrounded her like a thick, velvet blanket. She bit her lip as she felt tears prickle the back of her eyes.

She opened the door and glanced around. She walked toward the music room slowly, avoiding the debris that littered the floor. She had nearly reached the music room, trying to move silently, when she tripped on a fallen candelabrum and stumbled into the doorjamb, muttering a curse under her breath.

Erik stopped playing and whirled around, his cat-like eyes searching the dimly lit room. He had heard a sound coming from the doorway. He smiled and even chuckled when he heard the very unladylike curse. "Lady De Chagny, your mother would be most ashamed of you," he taunted.

She blushed and cast her eyes down, hoping he wouldn't hear her heart, which was beating so rapidly that if felt as though it would burst from her chest. Her eyes drank in the sight of him, in his immaculate black trousers, crimson brocade waist coast, black cravat and pristine white mask. She felt her cheeks burn hotter as her color deepened. When she glanced up, she was surprised that he had crossed the room without a sound and was standing before her, staring down at her with his beautifully unique eyes.

He tipped her chin up with one finger, to look deeply into her eyes.

"It has been some time since I have been graced with your presence," he said softly, his eyes softening slightly as he took her in.

She looked at him, searching for any signs of sarcasm or malice and found nothing but sincerity.

"I have been abroad for a few months. Visiting my brother," she added. His breath caught in his throat when she mentioned Raoul. "Christine is fine," she said, in answer to his unvoiced question. He nodded once before turning away and striding back to his organ bench.

'_You damned idiot, such foolish words,' _she thought to herself as she closed her eyes in anguish. When she opened them again she saw he was sitting at the organ bench, his form stiff and tense.

"I apologize…I shouldn't have said that." She turned to leave. "I shouldn't have disturbed you, either," she added softly. She was retreating from his home when she felt his hand gently grasp her arm. She turned her head and was surprised that he was just standing there, with a look of remorse on his handsome face. That face had haunted Victoria since she left Paris all those months ago.

"You could never disturb me, my dear. Quite the opposite, in fact," he murmured as he looked into her blue eyes, losing himself in their depths.

His hand came up and he brushed her cheek softly with his thumb. Her eyes slowly closed as she felt the light caress.

"Why have you come?" he asked softly.

"Your friend, Mr. Khan, made a suggestion to me."

He smirked.

"Ah…I see, Nadir has been meddling in my affairs again." There was a slight edge to his voice.

"Only out of concern for you," she said. She saw an eyebrow arch over his mask in surprise at her declaration.

"And what, pray tell was his reasoning behind his 'concern'?" he sneered.

Her silence answered his question, though he said nothing more. She finally found her voice again.

"He indicated you were residing with him till it was safe for you to 'emerge' as it were."

He nodded "I come here when I need solitude, or my music."

She looked around at the scene of destruction that had once been his lavish home. Erik watched her eyes as she observed the devastation he had wrought in the wake of Christine's departure. He took note of the sadness he saw pervading the sapphire depths.

"What troubles you, my dear?" he asked, letting his fingers brush a curl away from her face.

Her attention snapped back to the dark, tragic man before her.

"Your beautiful home…you did this?"

Erik was surprised that she had been able to deduce this so quickly.

'_She is, after all, one of the most intelligent women I've ever met. Not that I've known many women in my bleak existence,' _he mused with slight amusement.

_When he next spoke, h_is voice betrayed none of the shame that he felt.

"Yes, I did."


	8. Chapter 8

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and shivered slightly as she pulled her cloak closer.

Erik, the ever-perceptive man that he was, saw her trembling and felt a pang of guilt "Please forgive me for the chill air. My heating system has stopped working, and I have not been able to obtain what I need to fix it."

She shook her head.

"I'm fine…I just spent a month in England. I am quite accustomed to the damp and cold," she teased.

He chuckled softly, a sound that put a smile on Victoria's face. He watched her carefully, hoping she wouldn't notice.

She cleared her throat; she was becoming uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze. "Perhaps you would like come to tea tomorrow?" she inquired lightly. She didn't know what she would do if he refused.

'_Tea…yes…no. No, I want more from you than tea, my dear.'_

"No," he said softly.

Her face fell before he could complete his sentence, causing him to chuckle. "I would much rather have dinner with you tomorrow."

She couldn't hide the relief and surprise that swept over her face. She glared at him with mock severity.

"That was not very nice," she chided gently.

He was behind her so quickly she hadn't seen him move across the room. She closed her eyes as she felt him behind her, smelled his unique cologne and felt the warmth flow from his body. It made her pulse quicken and her face blush, how she'd missed this!

"And who ever told you I was nice?" he whispered into her ear.

She shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear. She spun around to face him, not allowing him the upper hand this time, permitting her anger to show.

"Enough!" Her breath was coming in soft gasps; he regarded her for a moment before pulling her to him.

"Enough what?" he whispered silkily.

She stamped her foot.

"Stop trying to intimidate me with mock intimacy!" she nearly yelled.

He seemed surprised by her outburst.

"Why?"

She furrowed her brow.

"Because you know how easily you can influence me, and I am tired of it! You must have realized that I have feelings for you. But do not make me a substitute for Christine. I would rather not have your attention at all than for you to look at me, wishing I were she." As soon as she said it she flushed in embarrassment. She bowed her head. "Forgive me…I…it will not happen again" She turned to flee the room, totally missing the look of total shock on Erik's face as she ran out of the house beyond the lake.

She heard his faint footsteps behind her; she angrily wiped away a tear and continued on. She ignored his calls and kept her face on the wall ahead of her. She was nearly at the Rue Scribe when he caught up to her. He grasped her hand and pulled her back to him.

"Victoria! Why do you run from me?" he asked as he raised his other hand to gently caress her cheek.

She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hand on her skin. "Because I don't want to see that look of mockery on your face. I've watched you fall in love with Christine. You would not listen to any kind of reason because of her. I've endured insults and threats from you on account of my friend, and now that I have told you how I feel about you, I don't want you to throw it back in my face."

He cradled her face in his large hands. "Look at me," he implored softly.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up into his. One hand remained on her cheek; the other moved to her waist and pulled her closer to him. He lowered his head slowly and gently pressed his lips to hers. One of her arms snaked its way around his neck while the other gripped his shoulder as his lips moved slowly on hers. He traced her lips softly with his tongue before pushing softly into her mouth.

She whimpered softly as she felt his tongue explore her mouth. She pulled his head down closer to her own before she allowed her own tongue to gently probe his mouth in return. He pulled away slowly, never taking his eyes off her, his breath coming in short gasps. He kissed her forehead before burying his head on her shoulder.

"I would never mock you for your feelings, especially when I share those feelings," he whispered into her neck.

He felt her kiss the top of his head and rub her hand over his back before she buried it in his hair. Never had he experienced sensations such as these. For so long, he'd imagined Christine as the angel who would hold him, kiss him. But now, as he stood in Victoria's embrace with the scent gardenias assaulting his senses and gazed upon her lips, still swollen from his kisses, he realized that what he thought he had felt for Christine was nothing when compared to his feelings for his little blue eyed savior.

Christine's betrayal was still fresh in his mind and his heart, and he knew he would always remember her with love. But he now knew that he had room in his heart for another lady, the very one who held him so trustingly right now. He'd give his life to make her happy, he could do no less. Did he love her? No, he didn't think he did. His feelings were confused because of Christine, but he knew he did care for Victoria, and he knew that if she gave him enough time, he would be able to love her, as she deserved to be loved. The only question now was if she was strong enough and willing to wait for him?

Without another thought, he claimed her lips again with his own, losing himself in the sensations caused by her slender little body pressed against his own. Her fingers were woven through his hair and her lips were pressed against his own while her tongue once more begged for entrance into his mouth.

Victoria lost all ability to think while Erik's lips were pressed to hers. The feeling of his big body against her, the scent of him…it was an all out assault on her senses that she didn't mind in the least. When finally he pulled away, she attempted to steady her breathing and failed miserably. They stood there staring at each other for a few moments before her shivering became even more violent.

Victoria couldn't be sure if she shook from the cold or in reaction to Erik's kisses. He gracefully removed his cloak and placed it around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully as she pulled the warm velvet closer to her, inhaling the scent of sandalwood.

"Thank you," she breathed. She had no idea why she suddenly felt so shy.

He pulled her against him once again.

"You are more than welcome, my dear," he responded, speaking into her hair.

She smiled as she felt his arms surround her and enfold her with his warmth. She settled her head on his chest, closing her eyes and savoring the closeness that she had so wanted for so many months.

She did not know how long they stood wrapped in each other's arms. He finally released her from his embrace, never taking his eyes off her. "You should return home. I do not want you to sicken from this damp chill."

She nodded in agreement although she was a bit disappointed "Yes, yes…" she mumbled. She removed his cloak and handed it back to him.

"You will come to dinner tomorrow evening?" she inquired.

"Yes, I shall. Will seven be convenient?" he answered.

She couldn't contain the smile on her face.

"Perfect. I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then."

He bent down and kissed her gently before escorting her out of the gates and into her carriage, keeping his face well hidden.

She was plagued the next day by an idea that had occurred to her the previous evening, as she readied herself for bed. She had at first quickly dismissed the thought, realizing how inappropriate it was and how scandalous it would be should it be discovered. But now she couldn't get it out of her mind.

She began walking from room to room in the expansive manor house. It had been her family's summer home, on the outskirts of Paris in a respectable neighborhood, although there was no one in residence on either side at the present time. After her parents had died, the manor had fallen into a sad state. Trying to keep her occupied, Philippe had permitted her to have the entire mansion remodeled and refurbished. He had been quite pleased with the results, and, as was customary, had offered the property to his younger brother. Raoul, however, was not interested in the mansion and had suggested to Philippe that the manor should go to Victoria since she had devoted so much of her time and effort to its improvement.

Unable to deny his young sister anything, Philippe gave the home to Victoria, but sent his own butler, Henri, to manage the household and act as chaperone to Victoria. She had been annoyed at first that her brother should send his butler to spy upon her, as her young eyes saw it, but she soon grew fond of him and soon began to think of him as a surrogate father. She had lived there for nearly three years in one wing of the mansion. Except for the servants' quarters, the rest of the manor stood empty.

She walked through empty halls and peering into unused rooms. At last, she found the room she had been looking for- her father's extensive library. She yanked the dust covers off the shelves and furniture. Spotting what she sought, she pulled the white sheet off the grand piano in the corner and fingered the fine ivory keys. It had not been played in years and was sadly out of tune.

At that moment, she made a decision…she called Henri to the second floor and smiled to herself at the look of surprise on his face to find her in the library.

"Henri, please air out the bedroom at the end of the hall and put new bedding on the bed. Also, air out this room and dust everything."

"Yes Mademoiselle. May I ask why?"

She smiled.

"I will be offering refuge to a dear friend of mine for a time, and I believe these rooms will suit him quite well"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Him…?"

She nodded.

"Yes Henri, and I would ask that you not inquire about anything that may seem odd about him. All you need to know is that he is my friend, and he will be staying here for a time, though how long I know not."

He bowed. "Yes, of course, Mademoiselle, I shall see to this immediately."

Victoria nodded, and turned to exit the room, leaving Henri to begin his work. She was confident the rooms would be finished before dinner.

Virginia was putting the finishing touches on what seemed like the hundredth hair style she had experimented with that day when she heard the doorbell. She hurried down the stairs, smoothing the skirt of her burgundy colored gown. She smiled when she saw Henri take Erik's cloak and fedora and disappear into the kitchen. Composing herself, she glided the rest of the way down the marble staircase to stand before him in the foyer.

He bowed.

"Good evening, Lady De Chagny." He placed a light kiss on the back of her hand, sending sparks up her arm to her very core.

She curtsied before looking up into his eyes and smiling. "Good evening, Erik."

"You look stunning tonight, my dear" he complimented softly.

"Thank you, kind sir!" At that moment, she heard Henri clearing his throat behind her. He bowed to her "Pardon me, Mademoiselle. The arrangements we discussed earlier today have been completed."

She grinned.

"Thank you Henri. Please tell Michel we shall dine in…15 minutes." She turned to Erik, who looked both nervous, standing there in sight of Henri, and curious. "Come with me, Erik. I have something to show you."

Victoria seized his hand in her own and pulled him up the stairs, then guided him toward the two rooms at the end of the hallway.

"I must apologize, Erik, first of all. I may have acted hastily and it is a bit inappropriate, but I did some thinking yesterday after I saw you under the Opera House. I decided to have these rooms cleaned and aired.

She opened the first door, which led to the library, and pulled him in. "This room could be your study, a place for you to compose, read, and escape." She gestured for him to follow her out, to the room next door, and opened that door.

They stepped inside and she smiled triumphantly as he took in the room that could serve as his sleeping quarters. He had long since dropped her hand.

"All this for me?" he whispered.

She nodded hopefully. "Yes…I never use these rooms. And the piano in the library has been rarely used. It no doubt needs tuning, but you could use it to compose. I know it's not your organ, but…" she trailed off, looking around the room.

He was so overcome with emotion that he could only pull her to him and hug her gently.

"Thank you, but why?"

She shrugged "I know that you must have been feeling a bit claustrophobic at Monsieur Khan's apartment. His place is very nice, but as small as it seems, with three people in residence I can't imagine you having very much privacy. I know how accustomed you are to your privacy. You would be away from the prying eyes of the public here; you wouldn't have to worry about being found…"

She watched him carefully, seeing that he was speechless.

"I don't really know what to say…" he finally managed to choke out.

"You are not obligated to take this offer. But this arrangement would cause me no inconvenience. Living in this big house all by myself can become lonely.

"May I have give you my answer after we dine?" he asked, after a moment of gaping at her and the room around him.

"Of course, you may have all the time you want."

Victoria led him to the dining room, where Erik helped her with her chair before sitting down himself. She sipped her wine as Henri served the first course. She noticed he didn't eat much; rather, he looked at the food with a look of distaste that she found a bit endearing. She giggled at him.

"I promise you, the food is not poisoned!" she teased gently.

He looked up startled, mouth open to protest when he saw her grin. "Forgive me my dear; I have never required much food."

She laughed "And yet, you suggested dinner?"

He blushed furiously. Victoria rose from her seat, took his hand and pulled him from the chair.

"I understand Erik…you don't have to force yourself to eat on my account."

He looked embarrassed and frustrated and refused to meet her eyes. She tipped his face down to look at her.

"Erik? What's wrong?"

"I wanted tonight to be…" he paused.

"Nice?" she filled in.

He shook his head.

"Normal," he finally answered. He turned to walk to the foyer. "I suppose for me to have anything be normal would be completely out of the question," he muttered, as he brushed past her.

She furrowed her brow as she followed him. She caught his hand as he reached the door. She pushed it shut, inserting herself between him and the door. "Erik, please…don't leave."

His frame was stiff and tense but unmoving. She looked around helplessly, unsure of what to do, until she got an idea.

"Play for me?"

His head shot up.

"What?"

"Will you play something for me?"

He nodded, relaxing somewhat.

"Of course." She smiled in relief as she gestured for him to follow her up the stairs to the library. He sat down on the piano bench and fingered the keys. The piano did indeed need a good tuning, but otherwise Erik could see the magnificent instrument had been well cared for and well loved.

"Any requests?" he murmured, not looking at her but at the piano.

She grinned as she sank into a nearby chair. She realized the leather of the chair still bore a faint hint of her father's cologne and was shaped to the contours of his body.

"Play anything, anything at all," she responded eagerly.

He began playing one of his own compositions, and soon became lost in the spell woven by the notes. She watched as he became completely unaware of her presence and quite possibly the presence of any other person on the planet. She smiled as she watched his body move in time with the music and the beating of his heart; they were one and the same.

The piece concluded, he sat back, flexed his fingers and looked over at her. She smiled at him.

"That was beautiful!"

He bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Thank you, my dear."

She rose from the chair and sat next to him on the piano bench.

"You know, you are the first person to play this in years…in fact this room hasn't been opened since I renovated this house."

He looked around.

"It was your father's." It was more a statement than a question.

She nodded.

"Yes, it was. When I was a child, we would spend every summer here, in this house, leaving our house in the city. I used to spend hours in this room with him, reading and studying. It was only when we were here that he could spare the time to be with me." She sighed as she looked around a bit more, before turning to look at him.

He was watching her rather intently, causing her to blush. She laughed nervously.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He smiled at his sweet angel.

"You and he got along well?"

She nodded.

"Very well. My father always gave me everything I could want. He taught me quite a lot himself." Her face fell. "He left instructions; after he died, Philippe was to hire tutors from all over Europe to teach me."

If Erik was surprised he his it well. "That is rare. Most aristocratic families raise their daughters just to marry into other noble families and produce heirs."

"Well, my father believed there was nothing wrong with me having an education. They still planned to find a suitable husband for me." She grinned at him. "My father wanted me to be able to give any husband of mine a run for his money. He always said that my mother ran things better then he would ever be able to. She had a good head for figures."

She rose and walked to the windows, looking out over the estate. She heard the bench scrape as he pushed it back. She peered at him over her shoulder as he walked up behind her and stood there, looking out the window in silence. She leaned back against him, molding herself to his familiar contours and smiling when a hand snaked its way around her waist.

"Is that offer still open?" he whispered into her ear.

She smiled.

"For as long as you need it."


	9. Chapter 9

The next day was a flurry of activity at Victoria's home. Erik and Nadir spent most of the early morning ferrying the few possessions he had not destroyed in his frustration from both the little flat on the Rue de Rivoli and the house beneath the Opera. Once that was done, the men settled into a chess game while Victoria had lunch with some of her friends. She returned to hear Erik tuning the piano. She smiled to herself and busied herself in her study. It was good to have music back in the house. She'd missed it.

It was there that Henri found her. When he knocked on the door, She spun around.

"Henri, what is it?"

He bowed.

"Monsieur Laurent, Mademoiselle."

Victoria looked confused.

"Thank you, Henri." She approached the older gentleman. "Monsieur Laurent, this is a surprise!"

He bowed and kissed the back of her hand.

Forgive me for the intrusion, Victoria, but I'm afraid I come bearing bad news."

She paled, but gestured for him to sit. He did so, sighing in exhaustion. The last time he'd come to her home, he had been the bearer of the news that her parents had died. Monsieur Laurent, who was the De Chagny family solicitor, had been a good friend to her parents, and now, to Philippe.

"May I offer you some tea?" she asked, hiding her blinding fear.

He shook his head.

"No thank you." He paused, searching for the right words. "Before you begin to worry needlessly, let me say that Philippe will be fine, and he has given me strict orders to tell you that you are to remain here and not fuss over him." He gave her a kind smile. "But, he has been in a rather unfortunate riding today. His leg is broken, his shoulder is dislocated, and he received a variety of scrapes and bruises."

Victoria felt her eyes fill up with tears, she couldn't lose Philippe too! "But he will be all right?"

"Yes, he will make a full recovery. He wanted you to hear of the accident from me before the newspapers blow the story out of proportion."

"Does he need anything? Perhaps I should send Henri to him?"

"There is no need Victoria, I'm merely a messenger, he's fine and he sends his love."

Victoria smiled. "Very well. Thank you, Monsieur. I assume Raoul and Christine are staying with him while he recovers?"

The older man's face fell. "Well, your brother is, but is seems the Vicomtesse wished to remain in London."

Victoria frowned, that was odd! There must be more to this story that he wasn't telling, but she would have to find out about that later.

"I appreciate you coming here to tell me, Monsieur. Please send my love and well wishes to my brother, and if he needs anything he has only to ask."

The kind older man nodded, kissing her forehead.

"You're a good girl Victoria. I shall keep you informed."

"Thank you" she smiled at him before showing him out of the room.

Once he was gone she allowed herself to sink into her chair, the tears started suddenly. She felt like a fool for crying so, but she'd almost lost her brother…she couldn't bear to lose any more of her family; those remaining were all too precious to her. Erik found her there thirty minutes later. He could see that she was obviously distressed about something, and he hated to see a woman cry.

"What is it ma Cherie?" he asked, placing a chaste kiss on her temple.

"Philippe was injured in a riding accident, he's going to be all right, but," she gave in to her sobbing once more, "I could have lost him! I don't know if I could bear to lose him or Raoul; they're the only family members I have left. It was so horrible when my parents died!"

Erik let her ramble. He placed light kisses on her face as he wiped the tears away. After a while, she managed to calm herself and blushed, embarrassed by her outburst.

"There is no need to feel foolish, my dear. I have never experienced the death of a loved one, since I don't recall ever knowing my family, and can count the number of friends I have had in my life on the fingers of one hand. I can only imagine what it must have been like for you when your parents died."

Victoria felt a wave of tenderness for the man who held her so tenderly as he wiped away her tears and listened to her nonsensical ramblings. To never have had any real family or love…she couldn't imagine a life such as his.

"I'm so sorry, Erik," she said after a few moments. She looked into his eyes and saw reflected there all the pain he carried within him, all the suffering he'd experienced, and her heart broke for him. She gently stroked his cheek. Lord, how she loved him! Although she wanted so much to tell him of her true feelings for him, she knew that he wasn't ready to hear yet, and he would surely be pushed away by her revelation. Instead, she leaned closer to him and placed a kiss on his chin, as though that kiss could kiss away all the pain he'd experienced in his lifetime.

Erik was surprised by the tenderness of the kiss and caress she bestowed upon his beastly face. His little aristocrat never ceased to amaze him with her caring and affection.

After sitting in Erik's lap for a while, Victoria recalled that she had been told that Raoul was in Marseilles but that Christine had remained London. Odd. Neither Raoul nor Christine had ever elaborated on what exactly had taken place below the opera house on the night of Don Juan Triumphant. She knew Christine had been frightened by Erik's awesome temper, but perhaps…the young singer had, after all, fallen in love with her teacher? That thought shook Victoria, before a wave of guilt took over. If Christine did indeed harbor an unrequited love for the man who was holding her so affectionately right now, how might she react if she knew of Victoria's love for the same man?

Erik noticed Victoria worrying at her bottom lip.

"Is something troubling you, my dear?" he queried.

Victoria looked up at him, should she dare to ask him? The look of trust in his golden eyes encouraged her, so she decided to try. She needed to know what his true feelings were for her friend and sister-in-law.

She snuggled against him for another moment or two, before sliding off his lap and placing herself next to him.

"Erik-"she felt his body tense at the note of question in her voice. Trying to assuage his fears, she took his hand in hers, lacing her fingers with his.

"What happened on the night of the fire at the Opera?"

His eyes blazed, boring into her very soul, but she wasn't about back down this time. She had to know everything!

Erik closed his eyes, unable to meet her blue gaze at the moment. Victoria did have a right to know about that pivotal evening

"I forced Christine to choose between me and your brother," he said after a moment.

"I know about that. Raoul told me as much, and I saw the marks on his neck from the ropes," He tried to withdraw his hand from hers; it hurt too much to admit all this to his little noble woman. Victoria held fast. He was not going to get away from the truth.

"Erik, please don't try to hide from me. Don't run away from this." She leaned in and placed the lightest of kisses on his lips. At first there was no response, but after a few moments, he clutched her tightly against him and plunged his tongue into her mouth with abandon.

When they parted at last, Erik saw her eyes shining with love. He knew he had to continue.

"She chose ME," he rasped. Victoria felt the blood drain from her face. As Erik was busily studying the floor, he didn't notice her pallor. "But I made her go with the Vicomte. I couldn't let her live with a monster in the darkness of the underground when she deserved the light." He smiled. "She's a creature of the light, she needs it to live. She may have been briefly happy with me, but, over time, the darkness would have smothered her."

Victoria swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"So-"she paused praying for her voice not to crack. "So, she chose you, but you let her go?"

Erik nodded, still not paying attention. His thoughts had returned to that night those many months ago. As the events replayed in his memory, he realized how much had changed in his life since then. He would most likely always love Christine. It had been she who made him realize that his heart even had the capacity for love. For that, he would be forever in her debt. But he now knew that no longer desired her as he once did.

He looked back into Victoria's eyes and saw her lingering pain, and he wondered what could cause such pain in so young a woman.

"Do you still love her?" she finally asked, her thick with unshed tears.

"Yes."

Victoria ripped her hand out of his and stood, crossing the room to stand before the window. With her arms wrapped around her middle, she looked out into the night. Erik was confused; he didn't know what he'd said to cause such a reaction from Victoria. Then the realization dawned on him. Oh, he knew Victoria cared about him; she'd told him so, and she wouldn't have done for him all that she had if she didn't. He'd never dreamed that Victoria's feelings toward him would deepen into love. He stood up and moved to sand behind her and gripped her shoulders with his hands.

"Victoria, I will always love Christine." He turned her to face him and tipped her face up toward his own. "But I am no longer 'in' love with her, as I once thought I was. She is too young and so very frightened of me." He caressed her cheek. When she leaned into his caress, his heart soared.

"She chose me to save your brother's life, I fear. She kissed me willingly, despite her fears, and in that moment, I realized I could not hold her to her choice. I would not want a wife who would always want another. I want someone who loves 'me', who does not fear me and who can accept all my shortcomings, for I fear they are many." He kissed her forehead.

"Give me time, Victoria, time for my heart to heal. Then I will be able to love you, as you deserve. Please be patient with me, my darling," he whispered, his words pleading.

Victoria knew no sweeter words had ever been said to her, she nodded unable to speak. Erik claimed her lips in a sweet and tender kiss. Neither heard the door open, nor did they hear the small gasp of shock until they heard a thud.

They both turned to the doorway to see a very shocked Christine framed in the opening. At her feet was a small valise that must have fallen from her nerveless fingers when she saw Erik and Victoria. At that moment, Raoul appeared behind Christine. He had apparently arrived right after Christine and seemed to be as surprised to see his wife there as he was to see his sister in the arms of the man who had come close to murdering him not four months earlier.

Victoria tried to speak, but words escaped her. Erik retreated to the back of the room, near the fireplace. She saw the tension in his frame, and understood why. She looked between him and her brother helplessly. She saw Raoul's jaw tighten as he watched Erik's attempt to hide his masked face from view. Victoria finally moved from her spot near the window, walked over to Erik's back and laid a hand on his shoulder.

His muscles tensed even more, but he turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, pain evident in his eyes, she smiled at him reassuringly before she glanced at Raoul and tried to ignore the smoldering anger she saw in his eyes. They all remained silent, none of them sure of what to say. Victoria finally broke the silence.

"Raoul, I had no idea you were on your way here. Monsieur Laurent told me you were with Philippe." she gave him a pleading look as she hugged him. Raoul pulled his sister into his embrace. He had come here needing her support in the aftermath of Philippe's accident. And he finds her in the arms of his nemesis!

Raoul's normally even temper erupted. He was already feeling the stress of his disagreement with his wife and his brother's accident, and now THIS.

"What the HELL is he doing here?" Raoul hissed.

"He's my guest, and you'll do well to remember that," Victoria retorted sharply.

Raoul glanced at Christine. She wore a look of hurt and love in her eyes as she gazed at the tragic man by the fireplace. He could take no more.

"Victoria, he tried to kill me! He had a noose around my neck! Christ, if Christine hadn't bribed him with a kiss, he would have broken my neck!"

Victoria gave him a hard look before casting her eyes toward her mysterious houseguest. Raoul couldn't miss the look on her face as she gazed at Erik. He knew then that he had lost. Erik would indeed have one of his women.

Victoria narrowed her eyes. "And yet you live, he was obviously unsuccessful."

Christine, in the meantime, glared at Erik's unmoving form. "I see it didn't take you long to replace me!" she spat, all of the hurt and anger at his 'betrayal' fusing in that one sentence.

He craned his neck to peer at her over his shoulder. "The same could be said of you Madame le Vicomtesse" he retorted coldly. He realized as he spoke that Christine no longer had any hold on him.

Christine straightened abruptly as his remark hit home. She said nothing, but bit her lip, trying not to burst into tears. She looked to Raoul for his help and support, but found that his attention was focused on his sister.

"Are you sleeping with him?" he demanded, instantly regretting his words. At the fireplace, Erik's frame stiffened even more, his grip on the mantle becoming murderous. Victoria also stiffened in anger.

"Forgive me, Victoria? I had no right to ask you that question," he pleaded.

Victoria nodded stiffly in response to his apology. She knew he wasn't himself at this moment. She wished she could find a way to remove Christine, and Erik from the room so she could sit down and talk to Raoul to find out what was wrong. Something had to be bothering him for him to appear on her doorstep at such a late hour. Then she saw Christine closing in on Erik, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her maestro. Erik's stiff frame told Victoria that his rigid control was waning.

She moved back to his side, placing a hand on his arm and looking into his eyes with love and support. Without a thought for the others in the room, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Raoul turned away, not interested in witnessing the open display of affection.

Christine felt a stab of jealousy as she watched the tenderness that passed between Erik and Victoria.

Raoul cleared his throat.

"May I return tomorrow? I must speak with you, Victoria." His voice was firm; she knew he wasn't happy with the situation but had the good grace to remain silent.

"Of course you may, but you are welcome to stay here tonight. We can talk in the morning."

"No, my 'wife', " he said forcefully, "will be staying in the city. I shall go to my home. I will see you tomorrow." He took Christine's arm, ignoring the look of betrayal she hurled at Erik as Raoul pulled her from the room.

As soon as the front door slammed, Erik spun on his heel and stalked out of the study, Victoria heard the door to his music room slam shut. She bowed her head, hoping Christine's reappearance hadn't undermined the burgeoning relationship with Erik.

She walked down the hall to the music room and tentatively knocked on the door. When he didn't open it, but continued to pound on the piano she knew it would be safest for her to just leave him alone.

She sighed as she wandered around the corridors of her home, unsure of what to do and feeling mildly guilty for the way she'd openly displayed her affection for Erik in front of her brother and sister-in-law.

Coming to an abrupt decision, Victoria squared her shoulders and returned to Erik's music room. Without knocking, she pushed open the door. Once inside the room, she shut the door a bit louder than she needed to. Haring the slamming of the door, Erik glanced up, his eyes laced with pain and anger.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to be alone right now," he choked out.

She bit her lip, wincing inwardly at the sharp tone Erik had used. She approached him slowly, as though he would jump up and attack her at any moment.

"Erik…I…I know you feel hurt right now."

"Oh really? You think you know of the pain I feel? You couldn't know!" he sneered.

"I know how you care for Christine! And I know how difficult it must have been for you to see her while everything is so fresh in your mind."

"YOU KNOW NOTHING!" he roared, as he surged up from the piano, kicking the bench away. Victoria wasn't prepared for his display of temper.

He began to stalk towards her, his anger fully unleashed "She lied to me and betrayed me! She left me and went with that boy and now she has the nerve to tell me 'I' betrayed 'her'? I gave her everything! I wouldn't have hurt her! I loved her. She would never have wanted for anything if she'd stayed with me! But she left, she left me to die in that godforsaken place, and now she has the NERVE to be angry with me because I've moved on!" he turned away from her in anger "I have finally found a wonderful woman who doesn't shy away from my touch, who craves my attention, but SHE would have me live a solitary life without HER!" he continued to stalk towards her, his anger clouding his mind.

He pinned Victoria against a bookcase, she was crying but he didn't see. He gripped her shoulders and pushed her back into the hard oak of the bookshelf, ignoring her cry of pain.

"She never intended to treat me as a human being with feelings!"

He couldn't stop the angry tears that coursed down his cheeks as Christine's hurtful words echoed in his head.

'_Pitiful creature of darkness…' _

He slowly released his grip on Victoria's shoulders. She reached out to touch him, but he shoved her away. With his shoulders hunched and trembling, he turned his back on her. She stepped toward him, ignoring the tears that flowed down her own cheeks.

"I treat you like a human…I always have. Doesn't that count for something?"

He only cried harder when he heard the pain in her voice. He couldn't look her in the eye; he tensed when she rested her hand on his arm.

"Please don't let her come between what we have between us," she pleaded. She'd been afraid all along that Christine's fickle whims would someday destroy Erik, and it seemed as though she'd been right.

He remained silent; she slid in front of him. She slowly slid her hand from his arm to his shoulder, and up his neck. She used her other hand to tip his face up to look at her. She wiped a tear away from his cheek with the pad of her thumb, her heart breaking. He gasped at the sensation of her touch on his bare skin.

"I'm not going to hurt you Erik, but you have to trust me. I know I'm not Christine, and I also know you will never care for me as you did her. But I do care about you…"

His silence stung her. Defeated, she sighed as she pulled away from him, and turned to leave the room. She took two steps before his hand clutched at her arm, stopping her. She looked over her shoulder at him as he pulled her back toward him. He pulled her tightly against his chest and buried his face in her neck as he sobbed even harder. The intensity of his distress made his knees weak and he collapsed to the floor, taking her down with him. Victoria crouched beside him and wrapped her arms around his sobbing form. She kissed his head, and murmured soft comforting words to him She did not know how long they remained there on the music room floor, wrapped in their pain, together.


	10. Chapter 10

Victoria opened her eyes slowly, groaning softly as her stiff muscles protested any movement. She looked around, unsure of where she was. After a few moments of blinking and looking around she recognized the room. Early morning sunshine streamed through the windows.

'_The music room? How did I get here?'_ She shook her head, trying to clear her foggy mind. She felt a warm body shift slightly against her; glancing down, she saw Erik slumped against the bookcase with his head resting on her shoulder. The memories of the previous night came flooding back. She rubbed her temples slightly, ignoring the hiss she heard from next to her.

"Forgive me…I hadn't…it was not my intenti…" he fumbled for words.

She furrowed her brow and waved a dismissive hand. "Don't give it another thought; neither of us expected to fall asleep…" she stood slowly, wincing.

Erik rose as well, straightening his cravat and jacket. They stood there in silence for a few moments before Victoria finally spoke.

"Raoul will most likely return today. Something is bothering him. He wouldn't have showed up without prior warning like that if something wasn't wrong." She paused, unsure if she should tell Erik of her fears. He'd figure it out soon enough anyway. "I believe Raoul and Christine are having some…difficulties in their marriage. I had been given the impression that she remained in London while Raoul tended to my brother in Marseilles."

Erik stiffened slightly.

'_So, perhaps Victoria thinks Christine returned to Paris to look for me?'_ he mused to himself. Victoria's stiff posture and the underlying fear in her eyes told him he had indeed read her thoughts. _'She thinks I will return to Christine, and leave her altogether. How can I convince her that I could never leave her?'_

Victoria waited for him to assuage her fears but he said nothing, standing there against the bookcase with his face contorted in thought. Unable to take the pressure of waiting for him, she rubbed her temples, warding off the headache that had begun to prick behind her eyes.

"Please excuse me, Erik. I'll leave you to your day," she said weakly as she turned and tried to hurry from the music room.

She'd nearly made it when she the familiar weight of his hand on her arm; she looked at him over her shoulder and saw the pleading look in his golden eyes.

"Please don't leave," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

She was torn; she wanted to escape to her room so she wouldn't have to watch Erik struggle with himself. "Victoria, you have nothing to fear from Christine. Nothing could make me leave you." He released his grip on her arm, but trailed his fingers down to her hand and took it in his own. "For so long wished for someone who made me feel alive; I've lived as a dead man for so long. Christine awakened something in my heart, but I'm not sure what it was. What I do know is that while she awakened a heart that had never known love in any form, 'you' are the one who has guarded it as closely as your own." He caressed her cheek with the long fingers of his other hand, and watched her eyes drift tightly closed at the sensation of his touch on her face.

"You mean so much to me, my dear, far more than Christine ever could." Her eyes snapped open; she looked deeply into his eyes, searching for any untruth. "How could I abandon the lady who holds my heart in her delicate hands?" he asked, as he grasped both of her hands and placed a light kiss on the back of each, one by one, before brushing his lips against her palms in their turn.

Victoria felt her heart nearly burst from love. She still couldn't bring herself to tell him that she loved him, but she felt that somehow he sensed her feelings. Erik leaned down and placed the lightest kiss on her lips.

"Never doubt me, my darling," he whispered into her ear.

"I won't, please forgive me for even thinking it."

Erik chuckled. "I already have, how could I not? I would never wish to cause you any distress, but I must…" He was unsure how to finish his thought without hurting her more.

"You need to speak with her," Victoria finished for him. "I thought you might. I can't say that I know how you feel about her, or my brother, but I do understand your need for closure. You loved her very much; that is not something that you can forget or push aside. You will be happier in your life if you are able to lay to rest some of the demons of your past."

Erik kissed her temple, holding her face in his hands.

"You are so wise for someone so young, ma belle."

She looked up into his eyes.

"Christine will be here within the hour; the drawing room will provide you with privacy for as long as you need to speak with her."

"You never cease to amaze me. Thank you, darling," he whispered into her hair.

Reveling in having his arms around her, Victoria was hesitant to pull away but knew she must. "I have to go change. Raoul will be here at any moment and I daresay Christine will be with him. They will never understand if I greet them still dressed as I was last evening!" She gave him a quick departing kiss before hurrying to her own room to wash and dress for the day.

An hour later, Raoul and Victoria were hidden away in the study while Erik and sister-in-law were closeted in the drawing room. Raoul had been more than hesitant leave his wife alone in the room with the Phantom of the Opera, but Victoria had assured him that no harm would come to her.

"What is bothering you, Raoul? You look so tired!"

Her brother ran a hand through his hair.

"I've made a damned botch of everything!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Victoria frowned.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean"

"I mean, I spirited Christine away from Paris and married her to…" He stopped, as though some weight was pressing on his chest. He sighed and looked away from his sister. He couldn't bear to look her in the face when he told her of the consequences of his less than honorable actions. Philippe had already given him a sound dressing down by shouting at him for nearly an hour yesterday; he hoped Victoria's reaction would be less extreme.

"To give the child a name," he whispered brokenly.

Victoria frowned in confusion.

"But a child is the natural progression after marriage." She didn't understand why he was so unhappy; she had thought he wanted children!

The truth finally dawned on her as Raoul sat there looking chagrined; She gasped audibly while inwardly she cursed herself for the reaction. "Oh!" she said, unable to think of any other comment. She'd had no clue that Raoul and Christine had been involved like 'that' when they were courting.

Raoul slumped onto the divan next to her; she put an arm around his shoulders and rested her head on his shoulder.

"At least you gave the child a name; so many men often times leave their mistresses to raise the child on their own. I know how you love her, Raoul; you have nothing to feel badly about."

Raoul looked at her, his eyes bright with tears.

"But she doesn't love me, Victoria. She loves Erik! She never says anything, but I know; I can see it in her eyes!"

Victoria bit her lip.

"What are you two going to do?"

"What else can we do? We can't get a divorce or annulment now, not with a child." He clenched his fist. "I never wanted this for her. She deserves so much better than this."

"Listen to me, Raoul." she tipped his face to look at her. "You two made a hasty choice. I'm not going to sit here and insult your intelligence by telling you otherwise. But now, you both have a child to think about. You must put your own feelings aside and think about the child that you have created together." She took his hands in hers. "I'm sure Philippe has railed at you enough, so I'll not tell you how foolish you were. I am happy that I will be an aunt! I know how badly you've wanted children, and I know Christine has wanted children as well. You will work everything out; Christine is young and innocent, and new to the feelings of love. Give her time."

"When did you get so wise" he murmured.

Victoria smiled at him sweetly.

"It runs in the family." She kissed his cheek. "Now, tell me when is my niece or nephew due?"

Unfortunately, the conversation in the next room was not going quite as smoothly. Christine and Erik sat in a tense silence, neither of them wishing to speak first. Finally Christine could take no more.

"Erik, have your feelings for me changed so much that you cannot even have a conversation with me?"

Erik steepled his hands, looking at her through narrowed eyes.

"Indeed they have, Vicomtesse, I find that I have very little to say to you."

The icy formality of his address stunned Christine to her very core.

"Tell me," he continued, "When is your child due?"

Christine felt her face pale; she didn't know how he knew. She'd only just started to show and it wasn't all that noticeable to anyone. Her eyes filled with tears, she should have known better than to try to get anything past Erik's eagle like eyes.

"The beginning of August."

Erik's eyes narrowed even more, ice flowing through his veins. "So, my virtuous little singer was not so innocent after all. When she returned to my home, to me, she had already allowed another to taste her sweetness."

Christine felt her stomach lurch at the crude way he taunted her, but she knew he was right.

"How little you thought of me!" He stood swiftly, startling Christine. He crossed the room to stand before the window, clenching his hands. She sensed that he was barely able to control his temper.

The young woman stood and walked over to him, hoping to calm his temper. "Erik I never…I didn't want to."

He spun around, and with a sweeping gesture, sent the oil lamp on the nearby table crashing to the floor.

"Why?" he roared. "I never hurt you Christine! Not once did I do anything but treat you with the utmost respect and love! I kept a respectable distance from you while you remained in my home! I gave you your voice, a career on the stage! I loved you!" he shouted angrily. "I almost died for you! And this is how you repay me! By sleeping with another man before you returned to me! Spitting lies and poison at me!"

He kicked a chair away from him angrily; Christine paled again, but remained silent and still.

"Is my face and my person so absolutely terrible that you had to lie to me?" He stalked over to her still form, his eyes blazing. He grabbed her roughly by the arms.

"Was the thought of laying with me truly that horrible?" he rasped.

He didn't hear Victoria or Raoul enter the room. They had hurried to the drawing room from the study when they heard the first shouts and subsequent crash. Raoul had wanted to shout back at Erik, to protect his wife, but his sister's hand stayed him.

"Let him finish. He won't hurt her. She brought this upon herself," she whispered to him. She watched with tears in her own eyes as Erik ranted at her sister-in-law, the pain he felt at Christine's betrayal evident, even with his mask.

Christine was crying, Victoria was crying and Raoul was watching Erik rage at his wife. Only when Erik grabbed Christine's arms did the other two people in the room react. Raoul ran to his wife, while Victoria ran to Erik.

Erik was so surprised to see Victoria that he released his hold on Christine, who fell into her husband's arms sobbing. Through the red haze of his anger, he saw Victoria's sweet face; the sight of her tears and the touch of her hand upon his arm brought his murderous rage to an end. All that remained was heartbreak, gut-wrenching heartbreak.

Victoria stepped closer to him hesitantly, wiping away a tear that had escaped during his outburst. Her finger upon his scorned face and the look of love in her eyes broke Erik. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor. The emotional baggage of the past year had finally caught up with him. The full weight of Christine's total betrayal weighed heavily upon his shattered heart.

If Erik's rage had bothered Christine, his tears shook her to her very soul. She approached him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. He lashed out angrily, much like an injured animal.

"Get away from me!" he shouted "How dare you-" He could say no more. He was overcome with tears. He turned away from the people in the room, ashamed that they should see him in his weakness.

"Raoul, Christine, would you please wait in my study? Henri will bring tea in a few moments, and I'll be with you shortly." Victoria shepherded the young couple from the drawing room.

Raoul nodded, pulling Christine with him out of the room.

Victoria turned back to her broken phantom and rubbed his head gently, saying nothing. She could find no words to make him feel better. She was more than a little surprised when his arms came around her waist and abruptly pulled her down to his level. He buried his face in her neck as he cried, clutching her tightly to his shaking body. He needed her strength, her love.

Victoria ran her hands through his hair, kissed his face and let him cry. She wished she could take some of his pain away for him.

'_Lord knows he's suffered so much from so many.'_ When he quieted at last, she helped him to his feet and moved him to the divan.

His face was expressionless as he absorbed all that had happened. Concerned about his apathy, Victoria kissed his cheek. The touch of her lips seemed to startle him out of his self-loathing.

"Please, Victoria, don't leave me," he whispered.

Victoria kissed him again.

"I must see to Raoul, but I'll return very soon, I promise." She rose to her feet. His tortured eyes looked into her own.

"You promise?"

She nodded and sealed her promise with a final kiss to his lips.

"I promise you, my darling, I'll be right back!"

She hurried out of the room and into her study, where Raoul was consoling his wife.

"Is he alright? Please? I must see him again," Christine begged.

Victoria steeled herself to Christine's pleas. "I'm sorry but I cannot allow you to see him. He has no desire to see you, and I must respect his wishes."

"But I must!"

Victoria's tempter flared.

"No!" she shouted, surprising Christine, who had never seen her friend's temper flare before.

"I will not allow you to hurt him anymore! It may not have been intentional, but he is hurt just the same! You have broken that man," she said, viciously stabbing a finger in the direction of the drawing room. "He did everything for you, and you repay him by having another man's baby! You try to weasel your way back into his life because you are selfish! This isn't one of your little melodramas, Christine! Erik is a human being and he has feelings, just as you do! He would have done anything you asked of him. It's time for you to grow the hell up and give the man what he needs most. That would be for you to leave him alone!" she shouted at her friend.

Raoul took Christine's arm.

"Come darling, we'll return in a few days." He gave Victoria an apologetic look as he ushered his sobbing wife out of the room.

Now all Victoria had left to do was some serious damage control…

Erik had composed himself by the time she had returned to her study, though most of the furniture in the room had suffered his wrath.

He loomed by the window, no longer her sweet Erik, but the Phantom, angry and brooding. Victoria knew she would have to tread lightly, lest she provoke his anger any further.

"They've gone, Erik."

"Indeed, I saw their carriage leave."

Approaching him carefully, Victoria came to stand next to him. "I'm sorry Erik, I had no idea," she whispered.

"Of course you didn't. Had I been in complete control of my faculties five months ago I might have recognized the signs, but I fear I was quite mad in those last months below the Opera house."

Erik's eerie calm bothered Victoria. When she had left him a few minutes before, he'd been sobbing on the floor; while she had been with Raoul and Christine he had vented his anger on her furnishings, but now he seemed devoid of any emotion at all as he stared through the glass.

Erik tossed a look over his shoulder and suddenly laughed at her nervous expression. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

"Do you still fear me?" he murmured into her hair.

"No, I don't fear you Erik. But you destroyed my study but a few moments ago, and now you're perfectly calm."

With a grimace, Erik looked around at the destruction caused by his anger "Forgive me, I'll purchase you new furniture."

Again Victoria's temper flared.

"Damn it, Erik! It's not about the furniture! It's…" she stopped, running a frustrated hand through her curls. "When I left a few minutes ago you were sobbing, and I come back to find you perfectly calm!"

Erik took her hand and pulled her against him, looking into her eyes.

"You're not looking hard enough, ma belle," he whispered.

Victoria looked deeply into his eyes and recognized the turmoil and pain in those golden depths. His big body was trembling from the emotions coursing through him. Victoria rested her head against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart.

Erik laid his unmasked cheek against her hair, closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations of holding her close to him. He could feel her heart thumping in her chest in time with his own. He was indeed very hurt by what he had learned about Christine today, but feeling Victoria's slight body against his was soothing to his raw emotional wounds.

"Will you always be there to save me from myself?" he wondered out loud.

"Always, Erik." she responded, looking up into his eyes.

He lowered his head to brush a light kiss upon her lips. "My beautiful savior…my conscience."

The sound of a carriage coming up the drive alerted them to new visitors. Erik relaxed immediately when he saw Nadir step out of the conveyance and mount the stairs to the manor. Victoria and Erik walked out of the study just as Henri showed Nadir into the drawing room.

"I'll leave you two to your game," Victoria said, before gracefully leaving the room. Erik and Nadir wasted no time in seating themselves before the chess set.

Victoria made sure to stay away from the drawing room during Nadir's visit. She wanted to give Erik time with his friend without her interference. She busied herself in the gardens, telling her new young gardener exactly what she wanted him to do, much to the disgust of the poor lad who had not realized before that moment that he was working for a perfectionist.

She finally dismissed him; he left quickly, happy to be free of her demands. She walked back into the house just as Nadir was leaving.

"Leaving so soon?" she inquired with a smile. She was always happy to see the Persian.

"Alas, yes. I know when it is time for me to cease giving my money to him," he answered ruefully.

She laughed, "I understand. Please, come back, anytime."

He bowed "Thank you, Mademoiselle."

He got into his carriage and tapped on the roof with his walking stick, signaling his readiness to leave. Victoria remained on the front steps, watching the carriage pull away. She felt Erik approach her from behind and his hands on her shoulders.

"I hope you didn't take all of his money like you did last time."

He chuckled "No…not quite."

He looked over the landscape and saw she had been working on the gardens.

"I hope you did not frighten anyone off with all the work in that garden."

She grinned.

"No, but he did leave here rather quickly. And he'll most likely not return. But I got everything done that I wanted, so it's no matter to me."

He turned her around so he could kiss her forehead. She stepped into his embrace, laying her head on his chest, smiling when his arms encircled her and held her to him. They stood like that for a few moments.

She shivered as a gust of wind swirled around them. He pulled her back into the house and to the warmth of the drawing room fireplace. He procured a cup of tea for her; picked up the novel they had been reading the day before and continued reading where they had left off.

At dinnertime Henri came in, not wanting to disturb them. "Excusez moi, but dinner is served."

Victoria rose, with Erik's assistance and strolled with him to the dining room. He sat down at the table after she was seated and sipped his wine as she ate. She never could understand his dislike of food; he rarely ate in her presence, or at all, for that matter, according to Henri.

She finished the main course, a delicious concoction of salmon and grilled vegetables. She too sipped her wine.

"Tell me. Are you and your brother still patrons for the Opera Populaire?" He had wanted to know for a long time how his opera house was faring since the devastation he had caused when he cut down the great chandelier.

She swallowed a sip of wine and set her glass down "Yes, we are. Though it is still being renovated due to the damage from the fire. And, they are still attempting to hire more cast members. But last I checked, they were doing well."

She thought for a moment.

"It has been a while since I checked in on them…perhaps I should stop by later this week, to see how they are faring."

He chuckled.

"I'm sure the managers will enjoy your visit."

She frowned.

"They have always reminded me of weasels…oh well. I need not be there very long."

He nodded his agreement, as he downed the last of his wine.

"Shall I play something for you?"

She smiled.

"I would love that!"

He rose and pulled out her chair for her, then smiled lopsidedly when she looped her arm through his. They walked up the marble staircase to the music room.


	11. Chapter 11

Victoria stepped into the marble foyer of the Opera Populaire; she wrinkled her nose as she caught a strong whiff of stale smoke and burnt fabric that emanated from the tattered remains of the destroyed stage draperies piled near the exterior doors As she neared the open doors of the theater, the burnt odor was much fainter. Pausing to look at the project, she noted that new burgundy velvet draperies were in place throughout the auditorium and the damaged boards of the stage were gone, but the largest part of the shattered chandelier still rested over the orchestra pit. Craftsmen were hard at work installing new seating. It looked to her as though the repairs were well under way. After a few minutes of observation, she turned from the doorway to continue to the managers' office. Hearing sounds of activity from within, Victoria knocked on the door.

"Enter."

She stepped into the office and struggled to keep herself from laughing at the picture before her. Messieurs Andre and Firmin were hunched over their desks, their hair mussed, and their clothes looking as though they were thrown on hastily. She had obviously interrupted them at something. Andre's jaw dropped when he saw her standing in their doorway.

"Ah…La-Lady De Chag-Chagny. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

She smiled sweetly.

"I was in the neighborhood, wanted to stop by to see how the renovations were coming along. Is this a bad time?"

"No, of course not! You are welcome to visit the opera house anytime!" Firmin added quickly.

"Are the repairs progressing as they should?"

"The superintendent of the work keeps assuring us that the Opera Populaire will reopen very soon and on schedule," Andre insisted.

"Excellent…well, since the work on the damage seems to be progressing nicely and things are in order here, I shall not detain you from your work any longer. Good day, gentlemen!"

"A moment, Lady De Chagny…we…how is the Vicomte?"

"He is well."

"Ah, and the Vicomtesse?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "She is well…although she is with child."

"Oh, very good, very good," Andre muttered absently.

"Has she mentioned if she had a desire to return to the stage?" Firmin blurted out.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, "No, she has made no mention of it. And what makes you think she would return to the very place of her abduction?"

Firmin and Andre had the decency to look ashamed of themselves as she turned and swept out the door.

She burst out laughing as soon as she was safely tucked away in her carriage. Andre and Firmin were so transparent! And they hadn't a clue that others saw through their false gentility, straight to their greedy little junk dealer hearts. She was still quite amused when she returned home. She walked in the door and handed her cloak and handbag to Henri.

"How did things go at the Opera House, Mademoiselle?" the older man inquired.

She smiled.

"Well, they are still as nervous and devious as ever."

"You shouldn't mock those less fortunate than you," he chided gently.

"I know, but sometimes I just can help myself! Henri, those men are insufferable!"

She heard a rich chuckle from behind her.

"I assume you have just returned from visiting Andre and Firmin at the Opera House?"

At the sound of Erik's voice, she smiled as she turned around. "Yes, and they were, as always, quite amusing."

"Henri is right, you shouldn't mock them so…. they have no clue that you are making sport of them."

She laughed, "You are right, it is true, but that pair of buffoons is so deserving of fun being made at their expense."

He took her arm in his and escorted her to the drawing room where a tea tray awaited them on a low table. She seated herself on the overstuffed divan by the fire and smiled when Erik reclined right next to her.

"And the condition of the Opera?" he asked, with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"There appears to be a lot of structural damage, I don't think they even begun to remove the chandelier yet. Bits of glass were everywhere. The draperies were pulled down but are still piled on the stage. The whole place stinks of smoke. The managers assured me that the opera house would be reopening on schedule."

Although he nodded and smiled, inwardly he sighed resignedly to himself.

'_What in God's name possessed me to do such a thing? I nearly ruined my own creation.' _

"Is something troubling you, Erik? You look preoccupied." Concern was written on her delicate features.

He reassured her, "No, nothing of importance. I was just thinking about the piece I was composing before you returned home."

"Always thinking of your music!" she teased.

She looked down at her lap, hesitant to bring up the subject of Christine.

"Firmin asked me about…Christine possibly returning to the stage."

She felt his body tense, but he remained silent.

"She chose to give up that life when she married an aristocrat," he finally said.

She nodded in agreement. Sadly, Victoria very much doubted if Raoul would allow Christine to return to her stage career after the birth of the child.

Erik suddenly jumped to his feet and made his way towards the door. "If you'll excuse me ma belle, my muse is clamoring for my attention."

She smiled fondly at his retreating back. "Of course…" she murmured as he bounded out the door. '_Will I ever get used to these mood swings?'_

Henri came into the drawing room some hours later to ask if he should serve the evening meal. Feeling suddenly hungry, Victoria rose from her needlework and followed the elderly butler out of the drawing room and, as he bowed respectfully, passed him to enter the dining room. Finding the room empty, she seated herself at the table but was mildly surprised to see Erik appear in the doorway and cross the room to take his own seat. He had emerged from his music room far sooner than she had expected.

She selected a wine to go with the meal. Henri poured the rich burgundy liquid into both their glasses and set the open bottle on the sideboard. He served their portions silently. Victoria inhaled the wonderful aroma emanating from the plate; there was a subtle hint of basil that tickled her nose. She, and surprisingly, Erik, began eating. There was silence for a few minutes as they savored the flavors.

Although she tried to pay full attention to her meal, Victoria kept glancing uneasily at Erik. She had been thinking about their relationship and their future while he was closed away with his composing that afternoon, and had realized there was still a major obstacle in their path. Victoria was fearful of broaching the subject, as she knew Erik would not react well, but she knew they would have to discuss this sooner or later.

She carefully placed her fork on her plate, dabbed her lips with her linen napkin and cleared her throat. Erik looked over at her, chewing. "Is something wrong, my dear?"

She shook her head. "No…well, yes…I.I don't know. There is something I wanted to discuss with you, something I fear you aren't going to like."

He felt his heart leap to his throat as he saw her eyes shift briefly to the masked half of his face.

He shot up from the table, knocking over his chair in the process, and stalked from the room. Victoria knew he felt terrified of showing her his face, but if their relationship was to progress, this was one secret he could no longer keep from her. She tossed her napkin on the tabletop and followed him. Hearing his door slam, Victoria hurried up the staircase, as she help up the expensive fabric of her long skirt to avoid tripping on it in her haste.

She daringly entered the music room without knocking and saw Erik standing rigidly by the large windows facing the front of the house, staring blindly into the darkness.

"I'm sorry Erik, I…but you must understand…"

He spun around, his eyes blazing with anger. He was attempting to control his volatile temper, but he was failing.

"I do believe it is polite to knock, MY DEAR!" He spat the term of endearment out venomously.

She refused to back down. "Erik, you, we, cannot hide from this any longer. You know how I feel about you, you need not worry that I will run or swoon. You know that I have seen your face before."

He looked mildly horrified before he realized she was speaking of the night of the disastrous debut of 'Don Juan'. He wanted to believe her, but every other woman who had looked upon his hideousness had abandoned him and scorned him. '_No, I will not lose her as well. I cannot!'_

Victoria saw the fear pass through his golden eyes. Then his icy demeanor returned.

"You have no idea," he sneered.

"Oh, I think I do. You are afraid that I'm going to react as badly as Christine did. That I might perhaps run, scream, leave you, fear you, hate you…but I won't Erik. By putting up your walls and showing your anger, you are trying to avoid being hurt again, and you think to stop me from pushing the subject. You have to trust my love for you. You have to trust ME."

He swallowed hard as he heard her speak the truth. He could never admit openly to her that she was absolutely right.

'_Maybe…I could try this one last time. Maybe it will be different with Victoria.'_

'_No! You fool! She's not going to be able to keep to these assurances once she sees the horror of your face up close! You are a fool for putting yourself in this position.'_

His mind raging at him, he closed his eyes to shut out the hurt h saw written on her face.

"Please try to understand…" he choked out. "I…no…it's not that simple for me."

She approached him slowly as she continued speaking, not wanting to startle him into one of his predatory reactions. At last, Victoria stood in front of him, looking up at him.

"Erik, I know this is terrifying for you. I can't even begin to understand how hard it must be, and I'm not going to pretend that I do. But I promise you Erik, I will not hurt you."

Erik swallowed hard, and closed his eyes. The truth in her tone shamed him; he knew in his soul that she would never deliberately hurt him. He jerked back when he felt her hand touch the bare side of his face. His eyes snapped open; he looked down at the lovely young woman who stood before him, and nearly wept at the love he saw shining in her sapphire blue eyes.

He let out a shuddering breath, she watched as his shoulders hunched slightly. Victoria saw that he was defeated and weary. She took removed her fingers from his cheek and took his hand in hers. "Trust me, Erik."

He nodded weakly as she released his trembling hand. He lifted it slowly to remove the mask from his face. As his fingers touched the unfeeling leather, he closed his eyes. He could not bear it if he saw a look of terror or revulsion on her face. He pulled the mask away and let his arm fall to his side.

Victoria looked upon his face without a change of expression, a flinch or a gasp. She felt such compassion for the broken man who stood before her. She had seen him close his eyes before he removed the mask, and now his lips started to tremble. She stepped closer to him, so close they were almost touching. She brought her hand up to gently stroke the ravaged side of his face; Erik's eyes snapped open, with a palpable look of complete surprise in their d depths.

"You are still here…" he said, in wonder.

She nodded solemnly.

"I promised you I would never leave."

He gave up the battle with his tears, and felt them slipping down his cheeks as he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed his head as he wept on his shoulder.

After a time, Victoria backed away and tipped his chin up to look him in the eye. The fear that had been present in his eyes since she had scrutinized his mask at the dinner table was still visible. She wished he would trust her, but she understood why he couldn't. She smiled up at him, and was somewhat relieved when he tentatively returned the smile.

He took a long shuddering breath, dried his face and replaced his mask. She felt a small stab of disappointment, but understood that the wounds of the past wouldn't be healed in one evening. It would take time before he was comfortable without the mask in her presence.

"Erik, please don't feel that you need to wear your mask around me. You are the same man to me with or without it. Wear it for your own comfort, if you must."

He nodded, but didn't remove it again. With his mask once again firmly in place, he stood straighter with more confidence. He looked rather imposing and very handsome to her but she could see how weary he was.

"I will leave you to compose or to rest."

He wanted to stop her, there was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't. He merely nodded to her retreating form. She closed his door and went to her own room, quietly closing the door. She sank onto her bed, gathered up a pillow and held it to her. She closed her eyes, thinking about how Erik had revealed his face to her.

She felt tears well up in her eyes when she thought of his tragic face. One side was perfectly formed, devastatingly handsome. The other…mangled flesh, yellowed, parchment like skin. His uniquely beautiful eye was sunken slightly into its misshapen socket. She felt overwhelming sadness for his tragic fate.

That God could create a man so beautiful on the inside, with a soul unlike any she had ever seen before. Someone who could create music that would make the angels in heaven above weep, who could create things of extraordinary beauty and genius like the Opera House itself. She shook her head; it wasn't fair that the world would never acknowledge his many, many extraordinary talents. Erik would never have public recognition of his music, his architecture, and his many inventions.

She felt the helpless tears that she had been fighting trickling down her cheeks. She swiped them away in irritation.

'_It is so unfair of society to shun him because of a defect of birth over which he has no control. How many men come home from war with scars and injuries worse than Erik's face and they are welcomed back with open arms?' _she thought to herself, angrily.

She listened for any sounds of his music. Although disappointed to hear only silence, she shrugged her shoulders wearily.

'_He was exhausted when I left him. I hope he has gone to bed.'_ It occurred to her that since he had come to live there, Erik had never left the confines of her manor. He remained locked away in his study all day, barely emerging to eat now and then.

She tiredly tossed her pillow aside and began to dress for bed. Although she had eaten little of her dinner, she wasn't the least bit hungry. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed, and fall into a blissfully ignorant sleep. In her dreams, Erik always had a perfect face and he would profess his love for her. The last image she saw in her mind before sleep overtook her was her wedding day beneath the rays of the warm summer Parisian sun.

Victoria tossed and turned that night, dozing fitfully. Sometime in the middle of the night she gave it up, and donned a dressing gown before leaving her room and wandering about the halls. She saw light streaming from beneath the door of Erik's music room. She tapped on the door lightly, turned the knob and stepped in. He looked up, startled. He did not expect anyone to be up and about this late at night.

He rose, smiling, and walked over to her. "Victoria…"

She smiled at him and held out her hands for him to take. He closed the gap between them and enclosed her hands in his. "Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head, her tumbled curls drifting over her shoulders. "No. It appears you couldn't sleep as well."

"I very rarely sleep; I've found that I do not require much rest."

'_He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep. How does this man stay alive?'_ she thought distractedly.

She smiled at his remark. "I couldn't get comfortable."

He led her to an armchair by the fire. She settled herself in it, leaning her head back. Erik seated himself in the chair across from her, his eyes tired and sad. She sat forward in her chair.

"Erik, you look tense. Are you alright?" she asked softly.

He didn't respond, but stared over her shoulder for a moment. She cleared her throat loudly; he seemed to snap out of his trance.

"Oh, forgive me…I must be more tired than I thought," he mumbled.

"Erik, I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us. I know that I made it difficult for you this evening, and I did not react the way you expected I would. Please, talk to me!"

"It's not that easy for me, my dear. I've spent my entire life alone; I'm still adjusting to having someone here who cares about me." He answered softly.

She nodded in understanding. "I will give you all the time you need to get used to me." She looked around for a moment at the scattered music. "I'll leave you to your work."

She rose from her seat to return to her room, but Erik reached out and grasped her arm. She glanced back in surprise.

"Please, don't leave me alone," he whispered.

She turned fully around and saw the pleading in his eyes. She nodded slowly. "I will stay with you, Erik."

She knelt before his chair and rested her head on his knee. She smiled when she felt him stroking her hair. Her eyes drifted closed in contentment. When she awakened late the next morning, she found herself tucked away in her bed.

She was dressed and in her study when Henri walked in with the post. She received a letter from Philippe, and surprisingly one from the managers of the Opera. She read over the letters, leaving Philippe's missive in her desk, but taking the letter from Messieurs Andre and Firmin with her to the breakfast table.

Erik was sitting there sipping at a cup of tea when she walked in. "Good morning, Victoria!"

She raised an eyebrow, "And to you…I didn't expect to see you down here this late."

"I arose late this morning," he answered simply.

She sat down and pointed to the parchment she had placed on the table by her plate. "It seems as though the Opera Populaire will reopen very soon.

"Oh?" He raised his visible eyebrow.

"It says here they will be presenting 'Giselle' in three weeks time for their grand re-opening."

"A wise choice on their part, who has been cast in the part of Giselle?"

"Meg Giry, and La Sorelli will be Myrta."

Erik snorted, "Sorelli is hardly the best choice, but I suppose there aren't many from whom to select now."

Victoria nodded in agreement.

"Well, at least the part of Giselle will be well performed."

Erik smiled.

"That it will."

She took a breath. "They are asking me to extend an invitation to Raoul and Christine."

He stiffened slightly at the mention of Christine's name.

"Well than, the managers must not be disappointed…"

She reached over and took his hand.

"Erik, if you wish, I will not invite them."

He seemed to relax a little bit.

"Do what you think is best, my dear, I will manage."

She smiled at him before taking a sip of tea. There was a knock at the door; Henri entered the room, with Nadir trailing behind him. Victoria rose, as did Erik.

"Nadir, what a pleasant surprise. Would you care to join us for breakfast?"

He shook his head, smiling at her. "Thank you, but I have already broken my fast."

Erik grinned devilishly.

"He is here to relinquish more of his money to me in a game of chess."

Victoria smiled fondly at the pair of them. "Well, then do not let me stand in your way!"

Erik took a step over to her and gave her a soft kiss full on her lips

"Thank you, my dear, for everything," he said cryptically.


	12. Chapter 12

**3 Weeks Later**

Victoria climbed the staircase up the main foyer in the Opera Populaire; she smiled as she saw the gilded statues shining, the marble freshly polished and everything looking new once more. She smiled when she saw the younger Giry chattering away with one of the younger dancers. She approached the two girls.

"Congratulations Meg. I can't wait to see you perform Giselle tonight."

The younger girl blushed and curtsied. "Thank you, Lady De Chagny."

Victoria patted her cheek before moving down the cramped corridor to the manager's office. She knocked once; she was quite surprised when the door flew open almost immediately.

"Ah, Lady De Chagny! Please, please come in!" Firmin boomed.

She stepped inside the office and sat in the chair Andre had pulled up for her. She watched them scurry about the office like rodents before seating themselves.

"We are honored you chose to come visit us this afternoon."

"Well, I wanted to come by to assure myself that all was going as planned. I'm looking forward to seeing the company perform this ballet tonight. It should spectacular!"

Andre nodded "Yes, and without that damned O.G. here to muddle things up, this season should be a success!"

Victoria could barely contain a smirk at the mention of Erik's ghostly persona.

"So you have not heard from him?"

"Not since that night! We are finally rid of him!" Firmin exclaimed excitedly.

Victoria smiled.

"Well, than you should have nothing standing in your way for a perfect season."

She rose to her feet.

"I will take my leave of you now, and I shall see you this evening."

"Will the Vicomte be joining you?" Andre asked.

"No, my brother will not be in attendance tonight, unfortunately."

Firmin shrugged.

"No matter, we look forward to seeing you tonight, Lady De Chagny"

She tipped her head at them before departing from the Opera house. She arrived home in a fine mood. Erik met her at the door. She handed her cloak to Henri and linked her arm with Erik's outstretched one.

"What did those two nitwits have to say?"

She laughed, "Well, they are immensely pleased at your disappearance."

He smiled grimly and remarked, "Yes I had figured they would be."

"I think this is going to be a wonderful performance. I'm quite looking forward to it!"

"Yes, I believe this will be the perfect opportunity for Meg Giry to truly shine."

"You really have a soft spot for her, don't you?" she teased gently.

"Her mother was always very kind to me. Though God knows why," he added softly.

She tugged on his arm and stepped in front of him.

"Erik maybe she helped you because she cared."

He shook his head.

"My dear, she was terrified of me. I made sure of that while she was in my employ."

Victoria decided to remain silent; she didn't want to spark Erik's temper. The two of them had co-habitated well the past few weeks. Once a week Nadir would come over and play chess with Erik for an hour before giving up. Some days Erik would lock himself away in his music room and others he would remain with Victoria, sometimes reading, talking or walking about the gardens. Once, she convinced him to go riding with her. Victoria, having ridden all her life, was pleasantly surprised at Erik's skill with his horse. For someone who had lived below ground for many years, he rode as though he did so daily.

They would dine together each evening, and after dinner would retire to the music room where he would play or sing for her until she fell asleep. It was a comfortable routine for them both. For Victoria, it was a chance to take her mind off her situation; she was in love with a man who was afraid to love her back. She understood why, and did not blame him for it, but she found the situation to be frustrating.

Erik was the perfect gentleman; he never mistreated her in any way. He would sometimes take her hand, or offer his arm. On rare occasions he would give her a light kiss. But that was all; she did not want to rush him into anything, but she was beginning to wonder how he felt about her.

She realized she had not spoken for some time and was staring absently over Erik's shoulder.

"Oh, forgive me Erik." She shook her head sheepishly when she saw he was looking at her inquisitively.

He smiled a rare, genuine smile at her "You are often lost in your thoughts these days, my dear."

She smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry. I've…it's not important. Shall we go read?"

Her tone had become sad, as did her eyes. Erik had an inkling of what her odd behavior was about but he was not yet brave enough to go down that uncharted road. They had finally become comfortable in each other's presence; he was not ready to upset the delicate balance that lay between them.

They retired to her comfortable study. He picked up the book they had been reading earlier that week, opened it to the bookmark and began reading. He fell silent when he felt her rest her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her and saw she had fallen asleep. He took the moment to study her delicate features more carefully.

Erik's POV

'_Lord, she is beautiful. If only I had the strength to_**…' **He reached out a hand and brushed a stray curl away from her face. His fingers grazed her silky skin. He jerked his hand back as though she had burned him. '_She is young and beautiful; she should be with a young handsome suitor of noble blood. Not an aging, eccentric monster. But she doesn't see me as such. She has been able to look past my horrific face, but does she truly see ME?'_He watched her chest rise and fall with her steady breathing.** '**_Do I let her see me? For who I truly am? Can I trust her?''_

' _Yes you fool! She has given you refuge and friendship as well as love. When was the last time you had that?' _

He felt his breath catch in his throat as an image of Christine passed through his mind.

'_She was terrified of you! You manipulated her, and scared her. Did you think she would do anything different! And now she is having that boy's baby._** '**

Victoria shifted slightly; he looked back down at her. '_But I do love this woman. She has given me her heart, and trusted me not to hurt her. Even though I have many many times. She is an angel sent from heaven just for me. I have been lucky enough to see her for who she truly is. That smile that she reserves for me and me alone, her intellect that no other man could every truly appreciate. God, I Love her! But can I ever tell her that? I think I can…I WILL tell her.'_

Victoria stirred slightly as Erik picked up the novel and began to peruse it. She lifted her head up off his shoulder, and smiled sleepily.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep..." she mumbled groggily.

He smiled down at her.

"I'm sure your meeting with Andre and Firmin exhausted you. They can be quite taxing."

She laughed softly.

"That they are." She frowned as she looked up at the clock. She saw there remained three more hours before she had to begin to prepare for the ballet that night. Erik followed her line of sight, and saw the clock. He released his hold on her, but was pleasantly surprised when she remained leaning against him.

He set down the book, glanced back over at her and felt his breath catch in his throat. The sun streaming through the window danced upon her hair, highlighting the red and blond strands that ran through it. She looked more exquisite than ever before. When Victoria noticed him staring at her, she blushed furiously.

She rose and stretched; not a ladylike movement, but she cared not. She stole a glance at Erik, who had also risen to put his novel back on the bookshelf. His hair was a bit rumpled, though the rest of him was immaculate. She smoothed the skirt of her dress and her hair, which had become mussed from her position on the sofa. The two occupants of the room shifted uncomfortably.

Victoria was mildly surprised when Erik took the initiative and stepped towards her, taking her hand in his own. She squeezed his hand gently, smiling up at him warmly. He felt his heart beat faster; he tried to control his nerves. He looked as though he wanted to say something. Victoria cocked her head slightly.

"Erik? Is everything all right?"

He nodded "Yes, everything is just perfect, my dear,"

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't press him.

"Very well, then. I think I am going to go see about an early dinner before I must dress for 'Giselle'."

"Then I shall read a while longer."

She sidestepped Erik and exited the room, in search of her elderly butler. When she had given Henri her instructions, she realized it would be at thirty minutes before her meal would be ready, so she wandered aimlessly about upstairs before stepping into the currently vacant music room. She ran her fingers along the fine wooden bookcases that held her fathers numerous volumes. She leaned against the cases and closed her eyes, recalling a past event in that very room. She smiled to herself as she remembered herself as a precocious five-year-old, running into the room and throwing herself at her father. who dropped his book in his lap in order to catch the flying bundle of hair, lacy petticoats and ribbons. Victoria fancied she could still smell her father's musky cologne after these many years.

A knock at the door ripped her from her reverie. She opened her eyes, and was surprised that she couldn't see clearly; she realized it because her eyes had filled with tears. She saw Henri standing in the doorway, watching her carefully. She wiped her tears away quickly, and straightened herself, pushing her body away from the bookcases. She followed Henri out and down to the dining room where he has left her meal. She picked at it half-heartedly until she heard the grandfather clock in the foyer chime six.

She left the table and retreated to her room for a long luxurious bath. She inhaled the relaxing fragrance of gardenias rising from the bubbles that surrounded her and closed her eyes. Totally at ease, she tarried too long in the tub and was hurried out by Judith, who chided her gently.

After much fussing and rushing about, Victoria finally emerged from her room, looking like a vision in a dream. She found herself face to face with Erik, who was lingering nearby. He cleared his throat as he bowed to her.

"You look stunning, my dear."

She blushed as she fussed with her skirt. Erik swallowed hard as he looked at her. He greedily swept his gaze over her from top to bottom. She wore dark green silk, which seemed to flow over her lean body, accenting her white skin and blue eyes. Her hair hung in ringlets, swept away from her face and held back with clips of silver and emeralds. A necklace with one solitary emerald teardrop hung from her neck. She smiled inwardly at Erik's candid gaze, feeling proud of herself for eliciting such reaction from her normally undemonstrative guest.

She cleared her throat politely, jerking him away from his study of her. He blushed behind his mask and cast his eyes to the floor. Composing himself, he offered his arm to her and escorted her downstairs. Her carriage was waiting for her as he helped her on with a light cloak to ward off the evening chill. Shivers ran up her spine as his long fingers gently brushed her collarbone. She turned her head to look back at him and saw the unguarded desire that burned in the depths of his golden eyes.

She reached out and took his hand; he jerked slightly, but did not withdraw his hand from hers. She gave him a minute to get his bearings before stepping closer to him. She swallowed hard. His eyes darkened with the intensity of his gaze. Victoria smiled sweetly at him.

"I wish you would come…I'm sure you would enjoy the ballet."

He took a moment to respond.

"Yes…well I have never enjoyed crowds."

She smiled resignedly and sighed softly, casting her eyes down to the floor. He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. His fingers remained on her cheek.

"I do not mind, in fact I shall rather enjoy the solitude of this house," he said softly.

She nodded once, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of his hand on her cheek. She sighed again as she stepped away from him.

"I should go. I don't want to arrive after the curtain rises," she whispered. She didn't really want to leave him, but she was obliged to attend the premiere. Erik nodded slightly, in agreement. He watched with a twinge of regret as she approached the door. Impulsively, Erik leaned forward and opened the door for her. She stepped over to him and gave him a soft kiss before walking out of the house.

Victoria managed to sneak into the Opera House unnoticed by the managers. Finding her box she ducked inside and leaned against the door, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the box was empty. Solitude!

She arranged herself in her chair and studied her programme, unaware of the door opening behind her until she heard a familiar chuckle. Dropping the programme as she stood up quickly in surprise, she glared at her box mate for playing such a trick on her.

Raoul smiled at her the look on her face.

"I've missed you, Victoria," he said after a hug and kiss.

"And I miss you Raoul. How are you doing?"

"Christine and I are doing well, far better than we were a few weeks ago. I suppose I have you to thank for that." He paused, looking down at his lap. "Does 'he' still live there with you?"

There was no doubt in Victoria's mind to whom Raoul referred. "Yes, he does."

"Have you fallen in love with him?" he asked, after a few moments of silence.

"Yes."

"I thought as much," he muttered. "Has he asked for your hand yet?"

"No, no he hasn't," Victoria replied softly.

"He will," he laughed. Her head jerked up quickly in surprise. "Don't look so surprised, I saw the way he looked at you and how calm he became when you entered the room. You're good for him; you give him peace, which I daresay the poor devil deserves."

"Thank you for understanding, Raoul."

He ran a finger down her cheek and tapped the end of her nose.

"Anything to make you happy!" he whispered.

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the ballet. The two siblings sat in companionable silence during the ballet. Afterwards, Raoul graciously saw her home. Unbeknownst to him at the time, Victoria fell asleep on the way home. When the carriage came to a stop, he patted her hand and shook her gently, but she was so deeply asleep that she would not wake.

Raoul stepped out of the carriage and picked her up, careful not to knock her head and carried her up the stairs. He was met in the foyer by Henri and Erik. He cast a wary glance at the latter, but softened when he saw the look in Erik's eyes as he watched Victoria sleep, nestled safely in her brother's arms.

Erik held his arms out and Raoul reluctantly handed over his sister to his one time nemesis. Once he saw the mysterious man disappear up the stairs with his precious burden, he departed for his own home and his wife who was waiting there for him.

Victoria woke early the next morning; she could hear Erik already pounding away in his music room. Knowing he would be there for hours, she washed and dressed for the day before hurrying down to the kitchen. She worked out the menu for the rest of the week with her chef, Michel, and spoke to another new gardener. As she was walking back into the house, she saw Raoul ride up.

"Raoul, twice in as many days? I'm honored" she teased.

He embraced his sister, escorting her into the house. "I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing, you fell asleep on the way home last night, you know, and I had to carry you into the house! The last I saw of you, your houseguest was lugging you up the stairs! Did you get to bed safely?"

"No, you're coming by to check on Erik because you don't trust him."

Knowing he'd been caught, Raoul hung his head as he took her hand. "I worry that's all. You…you didn't see him that night under the Opera house. He was a mad man and I couldn't bear it if he hurt you."

"Well, now that you see for yourself that I did nothing to her last night," came Erik's stern voice from the staircase, "You can be assured that I mean your sister no harm." Erik came to stand by Victoria, who put a hand on his shoulder, silently begging him to keep his temper in check.

Raoul saw Erik's eyes soften as he turned to look at Victoria, and in that moment he knew she was in the best of hands.

"I could never harm her," Erik said, more to Victoria than to Raoul. He turned his attention back to the young Vicomte. "So you see, you need not keep checking on her. She is being well cared for."

Raoul nodded.

"So she is, Monsieur." He paused, looking at his sister, before holding his hand out to Erik.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced, I'm Raoul De Chagny," the young man said with a smile.

Erik looked at the younger man's extended hand and back to Victoria, who was pleading with her eyes for him to meet Raoul halfway and give him a second chance. He took the Vicomte's proffered hand in his own, and shook it vigorously. "Erik Deveraux."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur."

Victoria smiled at her brother, thanking him silently for his reluctant acceptance of Erik in her life. Raoul shook his head, pulling her to him and kissing her cheek.

"You will be the death of me," he muttered, good-naturedly.

"You must keep a close eye on my sister, Monsieur Deveraux. She tends to get into trouble."

"I had noticed," Erik quipped dryly.

Victoria threw both of them indignant glares before giving Raoul one more hug. He then handed her over to Erik's comforting embrace. He had seemed during the past few weeks to physically be keeping her at a distance, so Victoria was pleasantly surprised that Erik pulled her intimately against him and wrapped an arm familiarly around her waist.

Raoul took this as his cue to leave, but not before remarking to Victoria, "Oh, by the way, Christine would like to know if you would go shopping with her. She's gone a bit overboard with the preparations for the baby and she would very much like your help."

Victoria grinned although she felt Erik tense when Raoul mentioned the coming baby.

"I'd love it! Tell Christine I shall take her tomorrow afternoon to shop for a bedroom suite for the nursery."

Raoul nodded grimly, muttering about the high cost of children, but even as he said the words Victoria could see how sublimely happy he was. As her brother departed she leaned back against Erik, smiling when his arms tightened around her.

"I'm so pleased you and Raoul are making an effort to tolerate each other on my behalf."

"For you, my dove, I would do anything, even if it means I must 'play nice' with the Vicomte and his wife"

Victoria laughed, a sound that Erik knew he would never tire of hearing. "Well, I very much appreciate your efforts!" She turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his waist.

"He seems happy about the child," Erik said, after a while.

"He is. Raoul has always wanted children, though Philippe has always hoped I would marry and start a family sooner than Raoul," she laughed. "Philippe thinks I will let him spoil his nieces and nephews, buy he is certain that Raoul will not permit HIS children to be influenced by their uncle!"

Erik rested his unmasked cheek against her hair.

"So, you also want children?"

Victoria could see this conversation was drifting into uncharted waters, and wasn't exactly sure she wanted to explore this particular avenue with Erik just yet.

"Yes I do, someday." She craned her neck to look up into his eyes. "Don't you?"

She held her breath while Erik pondered the question. "I suppose, yes. To be perfectly honest, my dear, I never thought I would be in a position to be considering children of my own." He kissed her forehead. "I don't have an aversion to children; in fact, I find them more tolerable than most adults."

Victoria allowed herself to breathe again, resting her head on his chest. Though her question had been an innocent one, Erik found himself once again pondering his feelings for the woman in his arms. Oh yes, he could very well imagine have little blonde haired, blue eyed angels running around. He only hoped they took their mother's looks…

Erik kissed her temple, not quite brave enough to ask her the question that he keeping bottled up inside him. Not yet anyway. But soon…


	13. Chapter 13

Just as Raoul predicted, Victoria spent an obscene amount of his money between a furniture suite for the nursery and commissions for a wardrobe that would make any grown woman green with envy, all on a child that hadn't even been born yet! Christine, however, was aware of the strain in her relationship with her oldest friend, which made the shopping expedition a bit awkward for her. Victoria had always been a master at hiding her emotions when she chose to. She was also as stubborn as a mule with a temper to match, so Christine was wary of pushing her friend too far. They steered clear of any conversational topics that might lead to Erik, Christine knew that he had been living in Victoria's home and was, in an odd, way courting Victoria. Raoul kept telling her that he was waiting for Erik to make an honest woman out of Victoria by asking for her hand in marriage.

Christine had gasped in indignation when her husband insinuated that Victoria and Erik were lovers. Raoul laughed and pulled his wife into his arms "I didn't mean it like that my dear, I simply meant that it is very inappropriate that he resides in her home."

So, although the conversation between the women felt stilted and forced, Victoria put on a cool façade and laughed with Christine, and spent more money on the unborn child than Christine could have ever imagined.

Victoria handed her reticule to Henri as she walked into the house, then carefully pulled her hat from her head and handed it to the elderly man as well. Erik was just descending the stairs, and as he reached the bottom, pulled Victoria to him to kiss her temple.

"Did you and the Vicomtesse spend more of the Vicomte's money and enjoy yourselves gossiping?" he inquired with a grin.

"Of course we did!" She smiled up at him sweetly. "With her time approaching so soon, Christine was getting concerned that everything would not be ready when the baby arrived."

"Indeed. You have been quite busy this summer in anticipation of the little one."

Victoria commented, as he led her into the drawing room, "I've wanted a niece or nephew for years now, and finally one of my useless brothers has proven to be good at something"

Erik actually laughed out loud, a deep rich sound that warmed Victoria from her toes to her head.

"You have a sharp tongue my dear. Be careful you do not cut yourself!" he said, kissing her hand. He knew that her over-enthusiasm over Raoul and Christine's child stemmed from her own desire to have children of her own. He also was very aware that his time was running out.

It had been nearly nine months since she'd rescued him from the pits of despair and brought him into her home. Since then, they've had a rather odd courtship, but a courtship nonetheless. He knew without a doubt that he loved Victoria more than any other person on the planet and he would die to make her happy. He wanted to marry her. He'd been hoping for nearly four months to ask her older brother for her hand, but with all the excitement about the coming new addition to the family, he did not want to steal Raoul and Christine's limelight.

In fact, he actually tolerated his beloved's brother when he would come by for a visit or the occasional dinner. A wary respect had been built between the two men; however, it wasn't Raoul he needed to ask. It was the Comte. Although he found the prospect of facing Philippe a bit daunting, he knew the man wouldn't refuse his request; he loved his sister too much to deny her anything.

Feeling her slight form nestled so trustingly against him, he could see the faraway look she would get during their shared moments. Yes, he was running out of time. Tomorrow he would send a message to Philippe, who was in Paris to take care of some business and to wait with his family for the arrival of his niece or nephew.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, dear," Victoria said, nuzzling his shoulder with her face.

"I am sorry, my pet; I'm merely lost in thought. And I've been neglecting my beautiful lady. Forgive me, dearest?" he asked.

Victoria kissed his cheek."Readily, Erik."

She was becoming harder to resist. When he'd first arrived in her home, he'd been so devastated by Christine's betrayal and so unsure of himself that he had buried his desires beneath layers of uncertainty and self-loathing. But as he became more comfortable with Victoria and assured in her affection and love for him his long buried desire was rising to the surface. She was so utterly beautiful in every way. He loved her so much! He wanted nothing more than to give her many children, to see her swollen with his child…it was an intoxicating image. He decided it was the time to act, baby or not.

Raoul had discussed Victoria's 'mystery man' with Philippe and had prepared him as well as he could for question he suspected Erik was soon to ask. Much against his better judgment, Philippe headed his younger brother's advice, and agreed to allow Victoria to make her own decision. He was ready when he received the anticipated note from M. Erik Deveraux, asking for an audience concerning an important matter he wished to discuss with the Comte. Philippe hoped that the 'matter' in question would involve this 'Erik' asking for Victoria's hand.

Erik walked into the De Chagny family home, uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. He knew Christine was hidden away in this very house and he had no wish to see her. The butler showed Erik to the Comte's study and left him alone there. Erik had waited only a few moments when the elder De Chagny entered.

Erik gave a small bow before taking Philippe's proffered hand.

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Comte De Chagny."

Philippe waved a hand dismissively.

"Please, call me Philippe, I don't much stand on formality," he remarked, gesturing for Erik to be seated, which he did a bit hesitantly. "I must say," the Comte continued, "I was a bit surprised when I received your rather cryptic message."

"Ah, for that I apologize. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you." Erik began hesitantly. "I wish to ask for your consent to a marriage between your sister, Victoria, and myself." There, he had said it!

Philippe grinned and Erik couldn't help but notice the same charming grin ran in the family. He had seen the very same expression on Victoria's face.

"Erik, I must say I'm very pleased you have finally come to me. I cannot say that I have approved of your recent living arrangements in Victoria's home."

"I had thought as much, and again I must apologize. I would never wish to jeopardize Victoria's reputation." He stopped again to look at his hands. " I love her; as surely as I know that I live, I know that I love her."

"Well said, Erik. You have my consent, and my blessing. When do you wish to have the ceremony?" Philippe asked with a smile.

"I would prefer a very small ceremony, and as soon as it is possible. As guests, perhaps just yourself, your brother and his wife? And one old friend that I have."

"It shall be as you request. Assuming Victoria will accept you, have her contact me with any details. I will handle the affair as my wedding gift to you both.

"You have my appreciation for everything, Philippe, more than you know. " Erik rose to his feet, as did Philippe, they shook hands warmly.

"All right, off with you!" the older man said.

Erik didn't need to be told twice; he left the study and nearly ran to his carriage. When he arrived at the manor he went in search of his love, he couldn't wait another minute. But, before he asked his important question, he still had one more thing to do.

He found her in his music room, unsurprisingly. She seemed to be spending a lot of time there. He knelt before her, taking her hands in his.

"Victoria, I have something I wish to ask you, but before I do I must apologize." He ignored her questioning look and continued on, "So many times we have talked about your family and you have told me so much about you and them, but each time you have asked my questions about myself and my past, I have cut you short. For that, I am truly sorry. There is much about me that you may never discover, but I will try to answer any questions you pose to me from now on."

He kissed her hands and pulled out the precious secret he'd kept in his pocket. The ring was exquisite, a flawless sapphire, flanked by diamonds set in platinum. "Victoria, I love you," he whispered, while Victoria's breath caught in her throat. Could it be? "I love you so much it hurts sometimes; I want to share my life with you forever. You took me out of the darkness and into the light, you have given me love and laughter and I want to share the light with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Victoria felt tears burning her eyes; she had hope so long for this moment. She reached for the ring, smiling in joy, but her face fell when he pulled away from her. "But, before you give me your answer, there are some things you deserve to know about me." He steeled himself and pulled the mask away from his face, setting it on the divan next to her with a shaking hand.

"I have traveled throughout Europe and the Middle East," he began. "I was constantly on the run, fearing for my life, trying to make my way in the world. I used the horror of my face to shock and the beauty of my voice to enchant." He looked into her deep sapphire eyes and continued, "I had hoped you would never have to know of my past, but I realize that I cannot hide this from you any longer."

He passed a hand over his forehead carefully before continuing. "When I was nine years old, I was captured by gypsies. I had run away from home and I was searching for food when I stumbled on their camp. I was captured and put on display like an animal. My owner would beat me to ensure my cooperation. When I was twelve, I killed him and escaped from the camp. I traveled all over…"

He stopped looking over at Victoria. Her face had paled slightly; she tightened her grip on his hand and nodded, silently encouraging him to continue.

"I ended up in Italy, where I met…the only person who had up to that point treated me like a human being. He was a master mason, he taught me his trade. But…" He stopped, his eyes going blank as he thought back to the time in Italy with Giovanni and Luciana. He heard again the stone crumbling under her slight weight, he heard it fall, and he heard the sickening sound of her body hitting the ground below.

He was snapped back to the present with a jolt. "Erik?"

"His daughter…Luciana. She had a morbid fascination with my mask; I guess you could call her my first…crush?" He shook his head. "Well, anyway, one night on a rooftop terrace, she demanded that I remove my mask. When I did, she ran from me, and fell off the roof. I killed her."

Victoria shook her head; tears were by now streaming down her face. "You didn't kill her Erik. She fell; it was a freak accident one that you can't take the blame for."

"Regardless of blame, she died. After that I left, disappearing into the night. I traveled once more. I found myself in Russia. I had gained some notoriety as a magician and musician with a traveling fair. One day, an from the Shah of Persia approached me." He smiled wryly "You know him today as Nadir Khan; then his title was Daroga of Mazanderan. He was a police official and a minor relative of the Shah. It seemed that the Khanum, the mother of the Shah, had heard of my talents and demanded my presence at their court."

He smiled as he remembered the journey to Persia from Russia. "After performing for the Kahnum, the Shah discovered that I had some talent as an architect. I was commissioned to design and build a palace for him. However, I also…" he faltered. Not wanting to continue, not wanting her to know of his horrific past.

Victoria saw the struggle; she bent her head and kissed his forehead. "You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to."

He shook his head "No, you have the right to know just what kind of man I truly am. The Khanum ordered me to think of new ways to torture people for her entertainment. Though I must admit…I did not feel entirely forced. After a time, I became afraid of what horrors my mind was conceiving and I began to think of ways to leave. As often happens I fell from favor in the Persian court, and Nadir was ordered to kill me. He of course did not. Instead, he helped me to escape. He spent ten years in a Mazanderan jail for my crimes and is fortunate indeed that he was not executed for aiding in my escape."

He paused for a moment before continuing. He spared her no details about his life after Persia, including his morphine addiction and his manipulation of Jules Bernard. He skipped over many of the details of his reign as Phantom of the Opera. She knew of most of what had happened anyway. By the end of his tale she was sobbing silently.

He looked up at her and raised his hand to wipe away her tears.

"I'm so sorry Erik; I never knew your life had been so wretched. I knew you had know suffering, but I never knew the extent."

He pulled her to him and let her cry on his shoulder. She didn't see the tears that fell from his own eyes.

"You deserve to know what kind of man I am before you agree to marry me," he said, after a long few moments.

Victoria smiled at him through her tears. "Erik, I love you. I think I have loved you since I first met you. What you were in the past, what you have had to do in order to survive, is not the man you are now. Today, you are a kind, caring, compassionate man whom I adore." She leaned in closer to him, "You are the man who will be my husband, God, Erik I love you so!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

During his confession, he had continued to kneel at her feet. When she hurled herself at him, he overbalanced and toppled backward, with Victoria atop him. They both began laughing joyously.

"So, in spite of all I just told you, I take it you accept?" he teased.

Laughing she held out her hand and waggled her fingers at him. He slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Of course I do!" She kissed him, "My fiancé," she murmured against his lips.

They were lost in their kiss, their bodies heated as they pressed urgently against each other. The kiss seemed to last forever. At last, coming up for air, Erik sat up. For now, he was content to just hold her against him, while she traced circles on the back of his hand with her finger. Never in his long life had Erik experience anything close to the love and acceptance that Victoria brought into his life. He knew that in their life together there would be hardships, but he knew he would never love anyone else more than he loved her.

**Epilogue**

Victoria smiled as she watched her husband, love shining in her eyes as he swayed back and forth rocking.

Their daughter smiled up at him, her golden/green eyes watching her father with an intense gaze. "She's beautiful my love," he whispered, looking from his daughter back to his tired wife.

"That's because she looks like you."

Erik sat down on the bed next to Victoria and transferred the sleepy babe to her mother. The newborn began rooting at her mother's chest, seeking nourishment.

Erik put his arm around Victoria's shoulder and drew her to him so he could place a gentle kiss on her temple. At that moment a little boy with curly blonde hair poked his head in the door, looking from one parent to the other. Victoria smiled at her eldest son and held her arm out to him, welcoming him to come to her.

Charles Philippe darted into the room and hurled himself at his mother, calming himself when he saw the sleeping baby "She's so pretty, mama! Can we keep her?" he asked with childlike innocence.

Both parents laughed.

"Of course, my love, we can keep her." She held the baby so Charles could see his sister better, "Her name is Adele Elizabeth." The little boy touched the infant's head before bending down to kiss her tiny cheek. "She's perfect, mama" the four year old said solemnly.

Erik ruffled his curls, before the boy settled himself into his fathers open arms. "How right you are, Charles."

Another face poked itself in the door, followed by two more. Victoria laughed, "You may all come in now."

Philippe, Raoul and Christine all made their smiling way in the door. Raoul took Charles from Erik as he stood to make room for the three other adults next to his wife. He smiled with a sense of pride as Adele was passed from person to person, all of them agreeing that the baby was beautiful. With her dark hair and unique golden/green eyes, she looked like her father. Philippe clapped Erik on the back. "Good job, old man," he teased.

Victoria laughed at Erik's blush, holding her hand out for her husband. He sat on her other side, drawing her to him and kissing her neck tenderly.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"And I love you," she whispered back.

"I say! Give the woman a break there man, she just had a baby yesterday!" Philippe teased when he saw the two lovebirds whispering.

Erik, without missing a beat, retorted with, "Well, I dislike odd numbers, so I thought we'd shoot for an even four!"

Philippe and Raoul laughed at their brother in law. "Speaking of, where is…?" just as he was about to finish his thought, a sturdy little body barreled into Philippe's leg and looked .up at her uncle with liquid blue eyes. Two-year-old Madeline held her arms out and Philippe scooped the little girl up into his arms, kissing her cheek. The toddler wrapped her arms around his neck and craned around to peer at her mother and father. Philippe bent closer to the bed so the little girl could see her new little sister.

Erik held his hands out and took the child into his arms, kissing her head. "Hello, ma belle. Have you been behaving yourself?"

The little girl nodded solemnly, looking at her mother with wide eyes, Victoria took the tot into her arms, cuddling her close.

"Hello, my darling! I missed you."

"I missed you too, mama," the little one whispered.

Victoria smiled into her daughters ebony curls

"Why don't you and Charles go play with Catherine and Robert?" Madeline nodded enthusiastically as her brother took her hand and led her out of the room to the nursery where their cousins were happily playing.

Raoul rose and followed them out to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

Seeing Victoria's eyelids beginning to close, Philippe and Christine tactfully withdrew from the room, leaving the new parents and babe alone.

Erik kissed Victoria's eyes.

"Just when I think you couldn't amaze me further with all you have given me, you present me with another raven haired angel!" He buried his face in her neck.

His good fortune had increased in five years of his marriage to his angel. He'd been blessed with his three beautiful children and a wife that he loved more than life itself. His bitter past was long buried. He looked down into his wife's blue eyes; this most precious angel had given him more than he'd ever dreamed of; love and acceptance, marriage and children. Life was so sweet. He was surrounded by those he loved and who loved him in return. He had only needed to find the courage within himself to reach out and allow himself to love again.


End file.
